


A Chance For Faith

by CallieRuiz



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Slight childhood au, Will add more as needed - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:41:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 41,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24743275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallieRuiz/pseuds/CallieRuiz
Summary: Deputy Chance Ruicknar had one job: to arrest the Leader of Eden's Gate Joseph Seed. That didn't go so well and now he's stuck being the leader of a resistance in a place he thought he'd never have the guts to come back too. He also can't help but be drawn to the sister, Faith. Something about her calls to him like the Siren she's been named for. Can he manage to save his home while maybe finding a way to come to grips with his feelings for one of the heralds of Eden's Gate...
Relationships: Faith Seed/Original Character(s), Faith Seed/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 12





	1. Stumbled Upon

**Author's Note:**

> This won't be written in order all the time but not by much. If it's a big difference it will be stated. But this first chapter takes place about a few weeks after the arrest. Enjoy!  
> Any comments and kudos appreciated. ^_^

Chance sat in the rickety lawn chair looking over the Hebane river as he watched for the glinting of the bobber. He had a little camp set up far from the fighting of the peggies and resistance, even better being hidden by trees and bushes. There was enough shade to hide from the other side of the river which suited Chance just fine. He was messing with the radio trying to find Wheaty’s radio station, it was better than the hymns and worship songs he had heard for the last few weeks. As he kept losing the signal he regretted not taking the time to charge his phone to listen to his music.

“Deputy,” as if the world didn’t hate him enough as it was he heard John on the walkie. He would turn it off but you never know when an emergency would come about, downside was John didn’t know when to shut up, at least Jacob was short and to the point. “Deputy you can’t hide out there forever. I will find you and I will get you to confess to me.”

Chance rolled his eyes, he didn’t have the time or patience to deal with his shit, “Hey John you want to play the quiet game? The rules are simple: you have till the count of five to shut up and leave me alone.”

“I’m not going to play your games,” John always sounded annoyed if Chance decided to respond. It’s like he was deviating from whatever script John had written. It was a funny thought, John up late at night trying to find the best words to sound more sinister than what he was in reality. 

Chance took out the remote detonators he labeled as John’s silos. He had a total eight that he set up before he decided to take some time away, but five would get his attention. “Alright John one,” Chance picked one at random and pushed the button. He placed it in the used bag as he heard a faint explosion in the distance. _Sharky would be proud of that one_. 

“What did you just do?!”

“Two,” Chance elongated the number as he picked another one pushing the button on that one. “Do I need to get to three John-o?” There was silence on the walkie for a few minutes. “Thank the lord it worked.” Chance turned the walkie off, hopefully everything could be fine for an hour or two. 

Chance had to recast the line, and replace the worm apparently. He sighed and quickly got it back in the water. Chance had hoped getting time to fish would help him relax, but all it started to do was bring up the childhood memories of him, his dad, and grandfather when they would take vacations here. His grandfather Mickey had a cabin up here that belonged to his parents and they would fish, hunt, hike, or stay inside and research the area on days it was better to be inside. He loved fishing the most with Mickey especially after dad died, they could talk and focus on the present with food and occasional beer for Chance once he was fifteen. Chance was trying the radio again when he heard gunfire in the distance. 

He looked up closing his eyes trying to see if he could pinpoint a general location and distance. Guess my time to relax is up, he thought as he got his gun ready at his side. It was still a ways away but you never know what coward would come his way. He heard some sticks breaking to his left coming closer to him. He stood and aimed his gun ready for whoever came through. Well it turned out they fell through to his camp. Chance lowered his gun just enough to identify if they were friend or foe. 

“Ouch,” Chance saw that it was a young woman as she started to get up. The light brown hair and white dress told Chance it was Faith before he even saw her eyes. The same blue green eyes that reminded him of the waters of Flathead lake, he never was able to get them out of his head. Seeing her eyes for the first time in that church is what distracted him from arresting Joseph right away per Burke’s orders. They were far away and present and sad and innocent all at once, the color was a bonus really. Another assessment as she got to a standing position didn’t indicate any weapons on her, so he lowered his gun just enough so he could use it at a moment’s notice. Her eyes locked on to his green ones, “Oh. I’m sorry.” She came closer, “I didn’t realize I was invading your camp,” her eyes looked him up and down, “Wait you’re the deputy my brothers keep talking about.” He saw a flash of worry cross her face. 

“Do they now? You sure it’s all three cause I only ever hear one.” 

She smiled at him, he had to admit it did have a small effect on him, leave it to Ruicknar men to fall soft for a woman’s smile, “Hmm, well it looks like you caught me off guard, deputy. What are your plans for me now?”

That was a good question. He could just easily kill her and be done with one of the four siblings, but Earl warned him about not being patient. If he killed her now before they had a bigger group of people there wouldn’t be a resistance left. He sighed putting the gun down walking until he was a foot from her, “First seeing if you’re armed or not.”

“Do remember to keep your hands from places they shouldn’t be.” She smiled and looked at him playfully. He swore he saw her bat her eyelashes. 

Chance rolled his eyes as he began to pat her down which was easy enough considering she only had on the dress and some shorts under the skirt. “Alright you’re unarmed, which means I’ll keep my gun away for the time being.” He put it in the holster on his thigh. “Now what are your plans for me? Because I would ask that you let me have some peace for a few more hours before you take me away.”

“I don’t have any for you. Yet. So you don’t want to kill me while I’m here unarmed?” 

Chance made his way back to his chair checking the fishing line, “Do I look like I’m in the mood to kill you?” He heard the dirt shift beneath her bare feet as she came to sit by him. “Look I’ll make you deal. You can stay here until you feel safe enough to go home and so long as you don’t try to have me killed or kidnapped I won’t have the same done to you. Deal?”

Chance held his hand out for her to shake, which she stared at for a few seconds before grabbing it, “Deal. By the way you have a catch.” She pointed with her chin to the pole that was moving up and down. Chance grabbed it reeling it a little before flicking it up a few times. Once it felt like the fish wasn’t going anywhere he reeled it in having little resistance on the fish’s end. He wrapped a rope through the gills and tied it to a rock so the fish could stay fresh until he was ready for it. “So deputy, how does one end up out here?”

Chance felt his blood start to boil, “Firstly I have a name and it’s not deputy. Secondly why do you care?”

She held her hands up, palms facing him, “I didn’t mean any offense. I don’t know you by any other name and I’m just trying to make small talk.” She turned to face him more, crossing her legs resting her elbows on them, “Do you want to tell me your name?”

“My name’s Chance and please tell your brother that. He seems to think he can continue to call me deputy with too much emphasis on the u.” Chance looked to her face, her eyes always seemed so big like they were taking in the whole world and seeing beyond it at the same time. “Why don’t you tell me how you ended up here?” Chance spotted more of the tattoo on her left forearm. “Does it have anything to do with that?”

Faith pulled her arm closer to her body, her fingers trailing over the tattoo, “The world can be cruel and it was cruel to me. I became lost wandering with little purpose until I was brought to Eden’s Gate. The Father, Joseph, showed me a new path, one with purpose. He helped me get better.”

Chance looked at her as she stared off lost in a memory, he understood. He wandered also, trying to find some way to hide the pain he felt. “I’m sorry for whatever happened to you. You didn’t deserve it.” She looked back at him with a small smile on her lips, “What was your vice? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“You need to tell your story or else it’s not fair.” 

“My story isn’t that interesting really.”

She stood up and became inches from him, “Then how about the story behind the scar?” She poked the five inch line on the back of his neck. “You don’t get that kind of scar by accident.”

To be honest even Chance didn’t know the full story of it. He knew it had to do with his mother and was only given vague details, “I’ll tell you a different story then.” Faith took a seat in front of him where a patch of sunlight made her eyes sparkle and create a halo of light around her hair. “My dad was a biologist, he taught at the university, and took me there almost everyday when I was still too young to go to school. He would talk to me about his research but I didn’t understand any of it, despite this he cited me as an author in many of his papers.”

“My father never let me near his work. Why did your dad cite you even though you were a kid still?”

“Said I contributed to it because I would give him ideas or I would help him talk out his ideas. And he said if a scientist can put his cat down as an author then a child under five should be no problem.” Chance offered her a bottle of apple juice, “What did your dad do?”

She took it, taking a sip before answering, “He was into botany. Trying to find ways to help people with plants.”

Chance laughed, “Guess we’re one in the same Miss Seed,” he tipped his bottle towards her in a toast. She tapped the top of her bottle with his. “Did your dad expect a lot from you?”

“I don’t think so. But they seemed to let me do whatever I wanted. Felt like they weren’t there.”

“Parents…You grew up with both of them? What did your mom do?” He knew people had both parents a lot of times but he kind of hoped she didn’t like him. 

“I don’t really remember what she did, she grew orchids in the conservatory at our house.”

Chance’s memory piqued at the mention of that, “Were you related to- oh what’s their name again. Jas- Jesco- Something with a J. Anyway point is when I was little my dad would always say we were nearing his arch rival.” Chance laughed to himself, “He wasn’t serious per se but he took me there once. I was about seven I think and I remember the orchids.”

Faith grabbed his hands looking down at the tattoos, “What are these signifying?”

“You go for the hard questions don’t you?” She smiled at him with those eyes that seemed to trusting, so innocent. It was hard to believe in this moment that she could be capable of the manipulation, forced drugging, and murder that everyone claimed about her. Chance wasn’t so quick to dismiss her though, despite the emotional side of him wanting to sympathize with her. She reminded him of, well, himself. “The ones on the left are formulas related to paternal bonding. The other is a structure for the chemical released after the fight or flight response.”

She giggled pointing to the fish, “Then why the fish?”

He gestured to the camp, “Cause fishing is relaxing.” He grabbed her left arm, “Now this has meaning but hard to tell what it is. There are three possibilities for what it could be.”

She yanked it back shooting him a glare, “That’s none of your business.”

Chance sat back in his chair, “Who did the tattoo? Was it your brother?” She nodded turning away from him slightly, he scoffed, “Tell him he needs to work on consistency. Actually…” Chance grabbed the walking turning it on. He pushed the button to talk to John, “Hey pretty boy if you’re going to be gallivanting giving tatts to everyone work on your damn consistency. Can barely understand what you write.” Chance thought for once that he didn’t have some response.

Short lived, “I’ll make sure yours is crystal clear to all who see it, deputy.” he growled with the line going dead after that.

“You shouldn’t antagonize them like that. It’s just going to create more problems.” Faith told him as she moved to stand up, “Speaking of which I should be heading back.” There was a faint howl in the distance, the Judges. “It was nice getting to know you, Chance. Hopefully we meet again soon.” Chance watched her walk behind him, her footsteps sounding more like a ghost. He had heard that she came to people while on Bliss but as far as Chance knew she was real in this moment. Hopefully she would stay that way in their future encounters.


	2. Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This for sure happens after meeting Faith for the first time and taking back Fall's End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to risenlucifer on Tumblr for helping me with the editing!

Chance walked into the Spread Eagle tired more than he ever had been in his life. He just finished taking back the small town of Falls End by himself, well almost Boomer helped too. Boomer had stayed outside apparently knowing what to do when he came to the bar. Good old owners in small towns. He took a seat at the bar, placing the backpack he wore beside the bar stool, he almost fell asleep right then and there. Well almost, the clinking and rattling of glass had him look up to his left to see a woman with blond hair in a blue flannel and jeans walking down stairs with crates. Chance leapt up to help her before she dropped them or fell down herself. 

She was startled as he took the top two off, “Thanks for that,” she blew the loose bangs from her eyes, “And for taking the town back for us.” He followed her to the bar setting the crates down on the counter. 

“It was no problem. Got to do my part around here. Everyone else is,” he held his hand out to her. “Name’s Chance by the way.” 

She shook it, “I’m Mary May. Would have told you sooner but well was kind of hard too.” They both chuckled. Bullets and chaos didn’t leave much room for proper introductions. “Can I get you a drink? Least I can do for ya.” 

The door behind Chance opened up and a black man with glasses walked in, his pastor’s collar barely disguised by a bulletproof vest. “Well,” a big grin appearing on his face, “ if it isn’t the deputy that saved Falls End.” He clapped a hand on Chance’s shoulder, “We haven’t met, I’m Pastor Jerome.”

“Chance. Nice to meet you sir,” Chance was sure they had met before but wasn’t quite sure how or when. Mary May held out a beer bottle to him, but he held a hand up, “Sorry none for me. Beer’s-” He shook his head, “Let’s just say I got into too much trouble with it.” Mary May shrugged and took it for herself. 

“You want some water then? Or a can of soda? I think we still have a few cans somewhere.” 

“Soda is just fine thank you.” He was handed a can and a beer was being passed to Jerome. 

“You did a big favor to this town, Chance,” he took a bottle Mary May handed to him, “Sounds like you’ve been doing good all over the place in Hope County.” 

Chance glanced down to the backpack near the bar, the zipper open just enough for the silver to gleam slightly in the light of the bar. “I- Well- Thank you sir,” he was a little uncomfortable with the praise. He turned back to Jerome, “I’d be a disgrace to my old man if I didn’t help this place out.” 

“Your father was from here?” Mary asked, surprised as she came up from her crouch sliding a cold can to Chance. 

He let the cool of the can calm his mind, “Well my grandfather mostly,” he picked at the tab on the can, “my dad took to living with his mom closer to Missoula until she decided being a mom was boring.”

“Wow,” Mary frowned while taking another drink, “that sucks.” 

“Yeah,” Chance popped the tab taking a long gulp, “Ruicknar men don’t have the best track record when it comes to women.”

Jerome looked at him, his face curious, “Did you say Ruicknar?” Chance nodded. “You’re Mickey’s grandson aren’t you?” 

“The one and only. Why? Did you know him?”

Mary’s eyes widened, “Know him? Chance everyone here knew him. Those that didn’t knew _about_ him.” She said her mouth curving into amusement, “My old man got arrested by him when he was a teenager.” She laughed at the memory. “This is a small town and he was a good man, Chance.” She paused, her face becoming tinged with sympathy, “We were all sad to hear when he passed away.”

Chance looked down at his bag sadly, “Sorry about not doing anything for him here. I should have, I knew how much this place meant to him. I just-” Chance held his breath letting it out through his nose, bringing his bag up to the stool, “Did you guys hold a memorial for him up here?”

“Some did but by then the cult had a bigger hold on this place, most of the people took their leave if they could.” Mary took another swig before trading her empty bottle for a fresh one, “Why? Did you want to have a service for him still?”

Chance tightened his grip on the silver chrome urn in his hands, “I should I didn’t have a proper memorial or service. I was going to when I followed his wishes for his remains, but when it came down to it,” Chance swallowed the lump forming in his throat, “I just couldn’t bring myself to come back here. I just-” Chance huffed out something bitter, not quite a laugh, “Some loving grandson aren’t I?” 

Chance felt Jerome’s arm around him as he looked past their reflections in the urn. It was the one thing he regretted most in his life. They had a service for his father. Almost half of Bozeman and the town showed up to pay their respects. He was well loved and Chance promised himself that he would do the same for his grandfather when he- Well when the time came. 

The news crushed him as he heard the words on the phone, it was too heavy to bear. He felt nothing but sadness and anger. Chance didn’t have a chance to make sure he was with his grandfather, he had a big test that day. A stupid fucking test, and when it was all said and done Chance just felt empty and alone. He was the last of his family, there was no one left. He needed them and had always hoped that he could have someone as he came into his own as an adult. Life, the bitch that it is, cost him that. It felt like a betrayal. 

Pastor Jerome’s voice was soft, “Come with me Chance, I have something for you.” He put a comforting arm around Chance, “Might make you feel a little better.” 

Outside Jerome led Chance to the church. The church was simple, white with green trim and the inside just as austere. When it came to worship there wasn’t always a need for flair, it should just be you and the one you pray too. At least that’s what Chance’s dad and grandfather said when he asked as a young kid. There was writing on the walls: the symbol of the cult and YES in big, bold, black strokes. He felt his anger rise, his hands becoming fists, seeing how they could have the audacity to deface a place of worship, as if they had the right to.

“Hey,” Jerome’s voice brought Chance’s eyes to the rows of pews on the left, “You mind helping me move this one?”

Chance nodded, setting his stuff down moving the pew toward the front of the church. Jerome knocked on some of the floor boards listening for something. Chance listened with him, curious. He soon heard how one of the floor boards had a slightly more hollow sound than the rest. “Is that the one you need?” Chance pointed to the last one Jerome knocked on.

Jerome knocked on it again, the hollow sound returning, “That it is. Thanks.” He took out a knife and wiggled it in the spaces between the wood one of the planks coming up from the floor. He pried it from the floor revealing a metal lock box hidden underneath it. Jerome took it out dusting it off. He enter in a combination, “Now your grandfather came back here about a few months after the cult came down, before they were killing and kidnapping, and he came to me,” Jerome opened the box taking out a folded stack of papers, “He came into the church asking me to hold onto these things for when you came back here. He was going to leave them with someone else but then John came into the picture…,” Jerome shook his head in amusement, “If I remember correctly he said ‘It’s never a good thing when some big city lawyer comes to a small town like this. I don’t trust lawyers as it is and more so one that deals with real estate.’ That is,” he repeated a twinkle in his eyes, “ _If_ I remember correctly.”

Chance chuckled, “Sounds like something he would say. What did he leave with you?”

“Who would have known he couldn’t have been more correct,” Jerome handed it over, “But he gave me his official will and deed to the house.” Chance looked over the documents surprised and curious. Everything looked like copies that he had packed away back at his apartment. “Said he just wanted to make sure you would be taken care of.”

“What makes you think that the cult wouldn’t have gone and ransacked the place? Seems like they aren’t above taking what they want.”

“It was reinforced, or at least last I checked.” Jerome gave a smile, “And there may have been a rumor that it was booby trapped. Mines and other fun things.”

Chance smiled and laughed, “I forgot about that. Good old Y2K scare.” Chance felt a key and saw an envelope with his name on it. “Thank you,” Chance said, giving him a quick hug, “For everything. It means a lot to me.” He held up the letter to Jerome, “I feel like I should read this alone. You mind giving me some directions. It’s uh,” Chance looked at him sheepishly laughing, “been awhile since I’ve been to the house.” 

He stuffed the papers in his bag as Jerome told him which roads to take. It soon started to sound familiar to Chance. He hugged Jerome thanking him again. 

Chance made his way into a car, getting Boomer in the passenger side, he drove the dirt roads that felt familiar, felt like home. The bumps were still the same ones he remembered feeling as a child as he sat in the back trying to see how high he could fly with each pot hole. Life was different then and he wished he could go back so he could appreciate it more.

Soon he was pulling up to the house. It was built from the ground up of logs that were chopped down before even his grandfather was a thought in someone’s head. The wood was dark and lighter wood areas born from when things had to change or be repaired over time. The windows were still the original windows from when it was first built way back when. There were metal shutters behind the glass hiding the memories from prying eyes. The door with it’s heavy lock was more of a grey due to the metal embedded in the wood. It looked untouched and serene with the Home Sweet Home mat under the front door. The grass and wildflowers poked through either side, having taken over the front yard.

Chance’s heart started to race and he could feel the pain knocking at his heart. He didn’t know exactly what he was going to find in there exactly, apart from the memories. Memories that felt more like regrets now. He grabbed his bag pulling out the envelope with the key inside it. 

“You ready for this boy?” He asked Boomer who only gave him a bark as a response his tail wagging lazily. Chance took a breath calming himself before making his way to the door. The key was on an old bobcat versus grizzlies key chain bringing a smile to his lips. Old man loved his Missoula grizzlies and only, begrudgingly, started to support the Bozeman bobcats once his son taught at the university. The key slipped easily into the lock as Boomer looked up to Chance turning his head when there was a click. 

Chance pushed the door open and saw the dusty house filled with furniture that creaked, boxes hastily labeled with their contents, and the kitchen in a slight disarray like someone didn’t take the time to put all the dishes away before leaving. The light filtering in from the shut windows allowing him to make his way around the old house. His footsteps were softened by the rugs and their layers of dust. There was a set of stairs leading to an attic that became his father’s office when they took trips here. Chance knew there would be a bed up there with a wall dedicated to his books and a table of various scattered equipment. Downstairs, there were three doors. One was for the bathroom still in working order, _Thank god for that_ , another was the master bedroom, only a little bigger than the other room. The last was his room. 

He hadn’t set foot in there since their last trip before his senior year of high school. He hadn’t dared. It was their last trip together before his grandfather started to become too old for these trips. Opening the door Chance held his breath. The room was as he left it. His posters of movies and bands that got lost to him over time, covered the walls. The books he had for summer reading stacked on the desk next to a computer that was only used to type up assignments, too old and slow for the modern internet. A journal he had forgotten filled with his angsty ramblings and drawings. The nightstand still had the bracelets he only ever saved for the summers up here, brown and black leather with no spikes or flair, just printed skulls, checkered, and occasional guitars and stars. _God I was a weird kid_. Chance looked under the bed to see the DVD sets of Sailor Moon that he hid from prying eyes. He smiled, _I could use a pick me up_. His CDs and tapes all stacked in various parts of the room, he couldn’t help but feel he had stepped back in time. 

Boomer came bounding into the room smelling everything in the curious fashion bestowed onto dogs. He petted the black and grey dog making his way to his dad’s room upstairs. His office was stacked with some boxes that had FRAGILE written all over them. They were left there from when he passed away. Chance was only twelve and he had adamantly refused to go up there until he saw how much his grandfather struggled. His eyes fell on the bookshelf wall to his left, there was an open box that had less dust then the others. Chance looked at it “ _Ray’s Writing_ ” was scrawled in his grandfather’s shaky handwriting. It was empty and Chance looked to the shelf noticing that it had been more organized than what he remembered. 

The textbooks took their place at the bottom while the green hardback journals an inch wide apiece took the top three shelves, they were marked with dates and experiment names or ideas. Pulling one down Chance confirmed it was his dad’s research and findings. The last one was beaten up and really worn, it was the one his dad’s team sent over with his possessions, his last work before he was killed. The last shelves in the middle were occupied by black journals also hard back and half the size. There was nothing written on the spines or the covers but taking the first one out he opened it to find journal entries. It was his father’s life from his eyes. Chance took one down with shaking hands, looking inside the first entry was dated 1969, just before the moon landing. Chance felt his eyes water as he put it back. He couldn’t read them, not yet. 

His heart was hurting and he was glad the only person with him was Boomer, he wouldn’t tell anyone if he cried. Chance wiped away the stray tears, “Come on boy,” he said, his voice barely a whisper, “one more room to see.” 

His grandfather’s room had a queen sized bed with two homemade quilts and the frame made with pine trunks, from right here in Hope County no doubt. The pictures on the walls, dresser, and night stand filled with his dad, grandfather, himself, and many others he didn’t recognize. Cousins, maybe. Aunts and uncles that he only met in stories. All of them moments in time that were now all Chance’s. It was his family’s history. His history. 

The decor his grandfather picked was what you would expect from a man of his age that grew up in a small town. Deer antlers, horse shoes, and paisley fabric. The walk-in closet still held Mickey’s clothes and when Chance took a breath there was a touch of the aftershave he wore still lingering on the flannel shirts. 

Chance sat at the bed taking out the letter from the envelope, the paper rustling from his shaking, “Well,” he took a deep breath, “here we go boy,” Chance patted the bed for Boomer to join him, “I might need your support.”

_Dear Chance,_

_If you’re reading this I’m sorry that my passing has come. I hope that I got to see you finish school and start your journey. I want to start by saying thank you for the wonderful life you gave me as a grandfather. I had started to think it was never going to happen until your dad came home with you in February of 1994. I cried seeing you and felt like I did when I first held your dad in the hospital. I tell you there is no better feeling than that, I hope you get to break the Ruicknar curse and have that feeling with someone you love and who loves you back._

_I moved to Helena as soon as I retired so I could spend more time with you, a lot of the people told me I would regret moving from here. I never did. This place meant a lot to me but nothing in my life meant more to me then when you wanted to come with me up here to my birth place and loved it as much as I loved you._

_I want you to know that your dad Ray loved you with all that he was, he talked about you nonstop when you weren’t in the room. He would be so proud of the man you were becoming and the man that you are now. I hope that information sticks better now that you’re older, you hated hearing it as a teen. I hope you take the time to read his journals that I placed on the shelves of his office._

_Chance, I love you. I don’t ever want you to forget that. I’m proud of you and always will be no matter what. But Chance I hope that you get out of Hope County, out of Montana. Your father didn’t ever really leave, but he wanted you to get out in the world and make your mark on it! You need to expand your horizons, meet new people, find love then lose it only to find it again but better. You are meant for so much more Chance. You will make your mark in this world. I don’t know how yet but I just know it. Ray and I will be with you every step of the way even when you can’t feel it we’re right there with ya. _

_I leave you the house and all that’s in it so you can always have your roots. Roots are important. They show you the way back home no matter how lost you get. I don’t ever want you to feel like you’ve lost that or that you don’t have one to come back to._

_A home should also offer protection and so I should let you know there’s a bunker with the most valuable and precious things that can be accessed from the closet._

_All I ever wanted was for you to feel loved and safe Chance. I hope I was able to do that for you because you brought back another wave of love and light to my life and your father’s both._

_Thank you Chance._

_With love always,_

_Grandpa Michael “Mickey” Ruicknar_

_P.S. I feel change happening so I hope that this place comes to you before then._

Chance looked over the handwritten words again and again holding it away from the tears falling from his eyes. He was sobbing. He knew his dad and grandfather loved him but after everything he had done since their deaths he- fuck, he didn’t ever feel like they could be proud of him. Hearing their words, that they were always with him, proud of him… His grandfather continued to be right. They did hit differently now that he was older. Chance wanted so badly to make them both proud of him, knowing they already were helped to ease the burden, even just a little bit. Boomer nuzzled him and licked the tears from his cheeks, which he allowed, burying his face into the dog’s fur. 

Chance had a _home_. A place he could call home, at the very least. He didn’t know if he would stay once this was all said and done, but he could always come back. That’s what home was, wasn’t it? A place to come back too and feel loved. The people of Hope county were starting to feel like a new family. Or more like an extended family he never knew about.

He was really glad no one else was here to see him this much of a mess as he cried for the next two hours. He never gave himself time to mourn- he just threw himself into everything and anything that could numb the sadness- but he let that happen now. He let himself feel everything. Let it all out. As Chance sat there he swore he could feel the arms of his father and grandpa comforting him. 

When it all subsided Chance cleaned himself up and took the urn out of his bag and grabbed two pictures. One was of his dad and grandpa when Ray was about 13, the other was of the three of them standing in front of the mastodon at the springs. He placed the urn above the fireplace placing the pictures on either side of it. He found another frame taking out the generic flower art he replaced it with the letter from his grandfather. It too joined the little memorial, or maybe it was more of a shrine. His own private place of worship. 

Chance looked at it a while, “I’ll make you both proud,” he stated, a determined smile slowly coming to his face, “Starting with taking down Eden’s Gate.”


	3. Stupid Impulses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A HUGE Thank you to PK_chu(can find them here) and risenlucifer(can find them on Tumblr) for your amazing edits and advice! Seriously this chapter would not have turned out as amazing as it is without you two! (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) I can never thank you enough! ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ I Love You So Much!

His heart raced with the speed of the bullets that now riddled his totaled black sedan. “Just had to take the main road,” Chance mumbled to himself, reloading his AK-M. As he leaned against the steel of the car he noticed how steadier his hands became with each encounter and reload. He craned his neck above the hood of the car, peeking to the white truck, looking for the stocky peggie with black hair and a trench coat to match who was shooting at him just a few seconds ago. His eyes raced until he finally saw movement by the bed of the truck. Seemed he needed to reload also. Chance only had seconds. With a sly smile he took his aim, “Come on assole, peek,” he whispered, holding steady.

A blur of movement came from his right and Chance whipped around, almost tumbling into the open. An angel with the green halo of bliss charged at him, and Chase shot without a second thought. He even landed the ever rare headshot. Chance would have whooped in victory had there not been another one lumbering behind. It took two shots before the angel laid prone at his feet. 

The tinkling of bullets hitting the car reminded him of the cultist he still had across the road. Chance rolled his eyes. He didn’t _mean_ to get caught off guard, but, fuck, this was Hope County. These gun fights happened on the hour it seemed. The sound of another truck driving had Chance groaning as he took the small distraction to make it behind the bed of a second cult truck. It landed him right in the middle of the road. He tried his best to step over the blonde-haired body that was full of life just five minutes ago. There was no need for disrespect. Once he was settled he looked to the oncoming truck and counted five bodies inside, two of which were Jacob’s elite Chosen. 

Chance leaned against the exhaust pipe. “Shit."

Chance took aim again at the cultist he had in his sights earlier, and let off three shots, knocking the guy down. Five to go. He had two options. He could either hold his ground here and risk being riddled with Peggie bullets, or jump from the bridge and risk the current to swim down the river. The river seemed the safer, albeit more fun, bet, all things considered. He’d done it before; he should be fine. 

The five from the truck were fanning out, getting closer. Bridge it was. He started to back up when the roaring of ATVs came from behind him. _Oh, come on!_ He looked behind to confirm. Sure enough--two of them, each with a single driver. _Guess the bridge is out._ Chance quickly took the little cover he could find. 

Odds weren’t looking good. Seven of them and one of him. They were encircling him as he quickly reached into his bag, all sides covered, his hand finally gripping around something that felt like a grenade. He pulled the pin and tossed it to the middle of their circle, the smoke quickly spreading and rising. _Perfect._ He ran around the car up the middle of the road, his eyes burning from the thickness of the smoke.

His plan was to try and run straight through, curving his route to put some distance between them. He had a hard time keeping his cover as he ran into them, despite being able to make out their shapes from a distance. Chance just needed to get to the other side of the road. There was one form straight ahead--did he account for that one? The person didn’t have a gun as far as Chance could tell. They were hunched over, coughing. He wanted to yell at them to get out of there, but all he had was a small window of cover. His lungs burned as he tried to suppress his own coughing, a familiar ticking sound nearing his head. Grenade! He picked up speed as he heard the clank of it hitting the ground. “Move!” Chance screamed, diving into the person in the smoke, toppling them both to the ground. The explosion knocked them into the trench on the side of the road. 

Chance’s ears rang, his head pounding, a heat building from somewhere he couldn't see. Time was slow as he tried to focus on the source of the heat. It was behind him as he looked over his shoulder, the grass and dry branches being rapidly consumed by the sparks from the grenade. He felt a small shift and looked to the warm body beneath him, battling with smoke and watery eyes to make out if they were friend or foe. 

It was the sister, Faith. _The hell is she doing here?_ Chance had to know, but there was no time to think about it. The muffled shouts seemed to be getting closer and the fire was posing a threat. He stood and ran to the trees, ducking behind some bushes to peer through the leaves. There was movement from the road above. They had to notice her down there, right? The breeze picked up, blowing smoke towards him. It was hard to repress the cough in his lungs as he saw the fire inch closer to her. That’s what we get for having so little rain in the last few weeks... 

Chance watched as the men started to spread out to the woods, shooting at every sound. _Could no one see her?_ He felt himself start to bounce in place. _Come on, wake up,_ he thought. The orange flames continued their journey towards the fallen siren. Chance needed to get out of there, but he couldn’t just... 

He _should_ just leave her. Chance bounced anxiously in place, gaze darting between the men coming for him and the fires coming for her. “Fuck it,” he groaned, launching to his feet and making a mad sprint for Faith. Quickly switching to a handgun for mobility, Chance lifted the young woman to his shoulder. She wasn’t total dead weight, which helped, but _god_ his arm was going to hurt. Ducking with Faith towards more cover, Chance turned to see a few of the men coming after him. The sounds of shuffling leaves, snapping branches, and heavy footsteps gave away his location. 

He inhaled, steadying his breath. Chance slowly turned around, aiming for one of the ones closest to him… Two shots echoed through the trees. One on his right, another two, then a single shot for the last one on his left. Chance didn’t want to risk them getting back up, so he took off at a lopsided sprint.

He ran until his arm felt like it was going to give out from numbness. His breathing was labored and he wasn’t even sure how much distance was now between them and the Peggies. 

God, Chance just needed to rest or at the very least shake off the pins and needles in his arm. He came to a stop, holstering his gun and adjusting his hold on the youngest Seed. Her head rested on his left shoulder while her legs dangled off his screaming right arm. Chance’s hearing was returning slowly, making it hard to detect much of anything farther than a few feet around him. He kept up a quick pace, more aware of the young woman he was carrying. Maybe now he could leave her behind? 

Chance shook his head, pushing that thought out of his mind. He couldn’t do that to her, even if she was the enemy. Lord knew when Faith would wake up, or if she would even know where she was. He had to have a plan though for what happened now. Stupid impules. Whitehorse was right, Chance was going to get himself killed one of these days, and if it wasn’t the impulses it was the empathy. He at least had _an_ idea. A bad one, maybe, but the only one he had. 

With a deep breath, Chance focused on the sounds around him, mindful of the crunching of the branches breaking beneath the weight of his boots. The breathing from his lungs was ragged and his heart was pounding in his chest. And yet, the ringing in his ears became fainter with each step. Chance could now appreciate the birds chirping and flitting from tree to tree; the sound of the rushing water from the river.

The one thing he didn’t hear? Gunfire. Feeling wary, he began looking around, listening for any footsteps that weren’t his own. He was just being paranoid. Anyone smart enough would have taken a shot by now. He was alone…

Chance stopped, out of breath and a little light headed. He turned his attention to Faith, “Hey, can you hear me?” He gently shook her in his arms. “Can you hear me?” he said a little louder, shaking her again. He heard a soft whine and noticed Faith move her head ever so slightly. “Good enough,” he breathed out, rolling his eyes at her feeble response.

Chance took the opportunity to hear past the ringing, yet again there was nothing but his heart and breathing. He looked around for some way to confirm his location. He was about eighty percent sure. The glimmer of a gold mason jar lid nailed near the ground of a tree trunk caught his eye. Chance moved closer to it, his foot pushing the brush to the side. There was a rough fish scratched onto it. He released an overwhelming sigh of relief. He was just a mile away from home. 

“Hey,” Chance said, a little excitement now in his voice. “Faith, are you able to hold onto me?” He asked, studying her carefully. Was that a nod, or just all in Chance’s mind? Not that it mattered, he was going to try and carry her on his back, emphasis on ‘try’. “Alright...,” he huffed while gingerly placing Faith’s feet upon the ground while trying to carefully prop her upright against a gnarled tree trunk like a scarecrow. It was then Chance noticed bruises, several yellow to purple blotches blossoming on her legs. Chance couldn’t help but feel responsible, he didn’t mean to cause that much damage and this was just her legs. He glanced over her arms seeing bruises that were green in color, a sign they had been there longer. He placed a hand over a set of five on her wrist, silently praying they wouldn’t match. While they were longer than his fingers there was no denying it came from a hand. Questions filled his mind, ones he needed answers too. Another day, right now he needed to get home. 

Tearing his green eyes away from the bruises, Chance returned his attention to how his hands carefully supported her upper chest. Then he turned around, squatting so he could grab her knees and not kill his back. The shadow of a smile passed his lips as he felt her arms cross themselves on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her knees hoisting her so her legs wrapped around his waist. The fleeting thought of her facing him with her legs around him passed his mind before he quickly threw it out. 

Chance quickly cleared his throat before saying, “Alright just keep holding onto me. We’ll be safe soon.” He didn’t get much of a response other than the slight movement of her head resting on his shoulder. Taking in another deep breath, Chance began the mile long march towards his house. 

More like a trek for his arms were burning, with the right arm completely numb, head throbbing, and he was pretty sure that the trickle of warm liquid upon his temple was actually blood. Chance was now staggering and it just occurred to him that the temperature was at an abnormal ninety six degrees. He _really_ didn’t think this through... At least there were two silver linings amongst this that made the endeavor worthwhile, Chance was in the cool shade of pines and there was a possibility that this could win him some favor with the Seeds. Though the faint sound of John's grating voice from the walkie in his bag gave him doubt. 

“Land Ho,” Chance let out with a raspy breath, though his green eyes sparkled as they landed on the dark wood of his house; he wanted to cry. Relief spread through his face as he gently nudged Faith, “Hey, you think you could walk a little into the house?” He heard a soft whine from her. “Well, you’re going to have to. I can’t carry you forever,” Chance sighed as he put her legs down carefully seeing if she would keep her weight on them, she did. He breathed a thanks before taking her left arm supporting her walking into the wood house. 

Faith’s legs gave out as they crossed the threshold. “Woah there,” Chance yelped in surprise as he caught her. Gingerly, he carried the young woman to the mustard yellow plaid sofa. He laid her down gently, most cautious of her head. “Alright let’s see what the damage is,” Chance sighed as he kneeled to get a better look. There was obvious bruising on her arms, face, and legs, but luckily nothing too severe. There were some superficial scrapes on her face and exposed skin. As Chance continued his shoddy examination he came across a dry matted mess on the back of her head. He tilted his head looking to his fingers that were slick with crimson blood and small bits of debris clinging on. He groaned, “Could this day get _any_ harder?” Chance reached for a threadbare shirt hanging out one of the boxes he was going through, placing it under the bird's nest of hair. _Best case is that it looks worse than it is,_ Chance tried to reassure himself. 

Thankfully, apart from the scalp laceration, the rest of the cuts didn’t require stitching. He could do this, he’d performed first aid on himself all the time before this, even while he was unsteady and dizzy from the amount of scotch in his system. Hell there had even been enough injuries to warrant real medical care in his life he had to pick up _something_. Green eyes surveyed Faith’s dirtied white dress, looking for any places where blood could be seeping through. He didn’t find anything much to his great relief for there was a bigger issue at hand. Chance was far from comfortable with the idea of stripping Faith of her clothes. 

Patting Faith’s leg genially, Chance remarked “Alright let me get the first aid kit.” His smile morphed into a groaning grimace, for as he stood up both legs protested from the sheer amount of walking he had done. Indeed, Chance found himself wobbling to the bathroom on legs made of jello. 

Quickly he placed his hands on the sink, anchoring himself before he looked up to the mirror. The kit was in the cabinet hidden behind the mirror as Chance stared at his reflection vacantly, willing his arms to move. They screamed in agony as he forced them to move upward to open the mirror.There was no way he could do this, but he had to. Chance couldn’t explain it, but deep within him was a desire to take care of Faith, to make sure she was going to be okay. He shook his brown haired head, it was the smart thing to do and his fault she was here in the first place, that’s why he wanted to care for her...it was simply that and nothing more, Chance reasoned. 

He finally managed to grab the prepared bag, and a bowl to fill with water. His right arm shook as he carried everything back to the couch. Faith’s breathing was even as he placed the items on the coffee table, before moving it closer to the sofa to sit on. 

Chance’s muscles burned, but he ignored the pain as he started to wipe away the blood and dirt from Faith’s face. She winced as he neared some of the cuts. 

“I know, I’m sorry,” Chance sighed apologetically before adding, “Have to clean ya up before I can put the alcohol on them, trust me that’ll be worse.” His hands shook, making it harder to be more gentle. _God help me when we get to the stitches._ Her arms and legs were easier to care for since all they needed were some band aids. “You’re lucky your feet aren’t worse for wear,” Chance stated with a slight shake of his head as he applied alcohol on a cotton pad. “You oughta wear shoes you know,” He stated thoughtfully, eliciting a small smile from the Siren though her eyes remained closed. 

“Okay this part is gonna sting,” Chance warned as he dabbed the moist cotton to her face. 

“Ow,” Faith hissed as it made contact with the cut above her right eye. 

“Told you,” Chance snorted a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Just hold still, you have two on your face, and then your knees,” Chance informed just as Faith moaned, trying to turn over and hide into the back of the sofa. 

Chance huffed, rolling his eyes, pulling the young woman back towards him. “You can turn over when it’s time to deal with your head,” he quipped. Quickly, he sanitized and bandaged the facial cuts, noting how steady he’d become the more his mind focused on her. Chance’s green eyes blinked, so lost in concentration, he didn’t even realize he'd finished until he was letting Faith turn onto her side. Chance kept his hold upon her , really just for insurance that the young woman wasn’t going to suddenly move. Yet, he couldn’t help but notice the warmth of her smooth skin underneath his palm. Clearing his throat, Chance focused his mind upon cleaning the dried blood as best he could through Faith’s light brown hair. 

Green douglas-fir needles and broad leaflets of quaking aspen had entwined themselves into the Siren’s locks. Huffing, Chance began to carefully pick out the leaves and needles from the knot. Had someone told him that one day he would be picking out the leaves from Fatih Seed’s hair, Chance would have called them crazy, yet here he was, now using a small comb to sift out dirt and other small grit he couldn’t grab. He bit his lower lip thinking of the best way to go about stitching as he dabbed water making sure the area was free of any obscurity . Doctors and nurses had stitched Chance up plenty of times It looked just like sewing...just with flesh, how hard could it be? Though if his memory served correctly, the scalp laceration required the doctors to shave his hair. 

“Maybe the bleeding will stop on its own? If not, then I can cut your hair...” Chance mused allowed as he continued to worry his bottom lip.

He almost missed her muffled, “You better not touch my hair.” Chance let her fall back towards him a few inches as Faith added in a low hiss, “Not even God will save you.”

The threat made his brows race up his forehead. “Then you tell me how else to stop the bleeding if it doesn’t on it’s own? Plus, I always wanted to add Hairstylist to my resume,” Chance’s green eyes sparkled playfully, but it was met with silence. Not like either of them were experts in medical care.

“Pressure,” Faith tried to look at Chance from under her heavy eyelids , “I think Jacob once said something about pressure for some amount of time.” She yawned out the last few words.

Huh, that made sense...Then one could see if the bleeding stopped. That impact of her words was like a fist into his stomach, he really never took care of himself the way he should have... 

Following Faith’s drowsy instruction, Chance grabbed a gauze pad and brought it to her scalp, letting her lie back down to help with holding pressure. “This isn’t the first time that you’ve had a head injury?” He asked, feeling a little curious at her knowledge.

Faith hummed, “A cut? Never. Other injuries to the head? Plenty.” 

Chance’s green eyes darted to the Siren’s...blue eyes...or were they green? He couldn’t tell from how Faith’s tired eyelids kept hiding them from his view. But Chance could have sworn they were a mix of blue-green…like Flathead lake...huh. Chance had been staring, and he quickly returned his gaze back to the slightly bloody gauze. 

Faith spoke again before Chance had the chance to press her for more details, “John though, he- well I forget the details as to what happened but Jacob was fixing him up and I watched.”

“Did Karen have to get his precious hair cut?” Chance asked with a grin.

Her lips tightened trying not to smile, “No, _John_ didn’t have too. He just kept whining the whole time.” 

Chance chuckled, “Well, that’s not surprising.” He then released a sigh. Silence befell the small wooden cabin as the mismatched pair sat quietly. Chance had too many questions he wanted to ask. He had heard a lot about Faith, how she did nothing but lie and manipulate people, his interactions, though few, painted a different picture. Tracey would tell Chance he was just falling for her spell, and then hit him upside the head. He was far from trusting her, she did seem closest to Joseph, there was just... _something_ about her. “Faith,” Chance’s voice wavered. He cleared his throat, “What did you mean-?”

“Don’t,” she whispered her eyes looking vacantly at the ceiling, “I see what you’re trying to do and it doesn’t matter. That girl is long gone.”

Chance nodded, it seemed their trust of each other only went as far as knowing the one wasn’t going to kill the other until the opportunity was right. So the question was, when would that day be? Everyone seemed to make it clear that he was going to have to kill her, hell he was rallying behind it after the arrest went south. Now though...well it felt wrong. He would though, that was the plan. 

Chance looked to the clock behind him, it had been almost fifteen minutes, good time to check. He nudged Faith to turn to her side again looking at the amount of blood on the gauze, it didn’t look like much, he grabbed a clean one pressing it to the area. This one pulled back a few drops but it seemed the bleeding was stopping on its own.

“Looks like it’s stopping on its own,” he relayed to her placing the gauze he just used to her head, “I’m gonna put something under it while you rest and I’ll check on it in about an hour, okay? Try to stay on your back.” Faith was quiet as Chance spoke. “ _Okay?”_ He asked again. 

Even with her back turned to him, Chance could see a thumbs-up. He sighed and held the pad to her head as he got her settled. Chance rested her hands on her torso, just below her natural waist. He stood and retrieved one of the blankets from the small linen closet and a pillow from his room. He placed the pillow under her head, smoothing out her hair before he laid the blanket over her and tucking some of the excess under her body. 

“Thank you, Deputy.” It was almost a whisper from her smiling lips. 

Chance rolled his eyes at the title. _You get a pass this time._

He shuffled into the bathroom, nearly collapsing as his hands landed on the cold porcelain. He hung his head a few seconds, feeling a gaping pain in his chest. He took a few deep breaths willing it to go away. Once it subsided, he lifted his head to the mirror and took in the state of his face. 

He was lucky. Damn lucky. There were only some minor cuts on his arms and face, all from the glass of the windshield, he guessed. There was a small cut just above his left temple, a small piece of shrapnel from the grenade caught in his curls. He could have been killed today. Now, he just wanted to take a shower, relax his muscles, and wash everything away. But, the fear of someone sneaking in was overpowering. 

He turned the faucet on and cupped his hands under the running water, letting them fill before he brought the water to his face. He was tired more than anything at this point. The dark circles proved as much as he looked back into the mirror. Chance did a double take as his green eyes met the ones in the reflection, a moment of panic hit him until there was quick recognition. He almost didn’t recognize the person in it. This person was far from the Chance Ruicknar he once knew. This stranger had hair that was in a constant state of disarray, and no amount of scrubbing and washing could manage to get all the dirt out of it. This face was more hollow, littered with small scars that doubled with each day. Any more and they’d start to look like Jacob Seed. These green eyes didn’t shine; they were darker, colder. Vacant. Whoever this was, they were lifeless compared to when Chance arrived here all those weeks ago. What he wouldn’t give to go back to where his biggest problem was dealing with Pratt’s ego. 

His arms shook as he gripped the sides of the porcelain sink, knuckles white, that ache coming back. Chance shut his eyes. He needed to go lie down. He took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, opening his eyes letting go of the sink to clean himself up. As he backed away from the sink, he caught a glimpse of his face, the earlier observations gone. He was Chance again as he made his way back to the living room. 

A silence hung in the air as Chance stopped and stood in the doorway, looking to the sofa where Faith laid. Her breathing was even as she looked so peaceful and serene with her smooth--well, _mostly_ \--rosy porcelain skin. The golden brown hair haloed her face, accenting her soft cheekbones and rounded jawline, so different from his angled one. Her light pink lips were parted ever so slightly as her breath escaped her in whispers. _She’s a real sleeping beauty,_ he thought as he admired her, removing his boots to be left in front of the door to his room.

“I'm far from the prince that’s meant to wake you though,” Chance mumbled, then sighed as he finally willed himself to walk to the brown velour armchair across from her. He grabbed the black journal on the table before slumping down into the plush seat. He rested his left leg over the arm of the chair and took one last glance at Faith before he let himself be immersed in his father’s journal. The 1980’s of his father’s life seemed more like a comedy with the amount of young students offering themselves up in exchange for a good grade. Ray Ruicknar never took advantage of it and honestly didn’t seem to care or have time for relationships of any kind. _Always the good guy. For the best, work was always your mistress, old man,_ Chance thought as he felt his eyelids grow heavy. 

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾ ⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾ 

There was a rustling that made it hard for Chance to keep his eyes closed. Cracking his eyes open, he peered around slowly. He felt disoriented and confused as he took in the darkened room around him. The rustling started again and he saw movement in front of him. He snapped awake, the journal falling to the ground with a small thud. His heart sped up as he started looking for a weapon or at least a light. His hand smacked the lamp near him. 

“Fuck!” Chance quickly grabbed hold of it before it toppled over. The cord was easy to find as the incandescent bulb allowed for him to fully take in what was around him. He looked across from him, where Faith was still tossing and turning. So, that’s what woke him. He gave a sigh of relief as he slowed his heart rate down. His muscles felt stiff as he made his way to her. He bent over, shaking her lightly, “Hey, Faith, wake up.” 

She moaned and groaned, but kept her eyes shut. The young woman’s forehead glistened with sweat, her skin was pale and had a greenish tinge...Faith looked like she was going to be sick! Chance ran to the kitchen and grabbed the trash can, thankful he actually had a bag in it for once. “Here, lean over if you’re going to be puke.” 

There was some protest before she finally abandoned her pride and threw up. Chance held her hair back with one hand, keeping the can high enough to make it easy on her. As easy as he could, anyway. Squeamishly, he looked to the wood clock behind him. Placed on the fireplace mantle next to the shrine of his grandfather and father, the golden hands read fifteen minutes before eight. _At night_ . _Not good. Not good at all_. They had been asleep for hours and she was a prominent figure that had been missing from her duties. Worse than that was the fact that her last known whereabouts were on the road where a certain deputy had caused trouble. 

“What time is it?” Faith asked as her heaves became dry. 

“Almost eight. You okay?” 

Faith nodded, a smile on her face that Chance suspected was supposed to be reassuring. He looked her over, his eyes catching her shaking arms and the sheen of sweat on her forehead. He quickly looked to her eyes, her dilated pupils. Even in this low of light Chance knew they shouldn’t be as big as they were. He narrowed his eyes slightly, and then he knew. “You need more of the bliss, don’t you?” 

“No,” Faith grumbled as she sat up and pulled away from him, “I need to be getting back home.” Her arms wrapped around her body, as if she were shielding herself tightly against the scrutiny of his gaze.

“You just got sick, Faith. I’m no idiot." Chance refuted as he placed the trash can on the floor. Striding over to the nearby table Chance roughly pulled back a chair towards the couch as the muscles in his jaw angrily tightened. He plopped himself down upon the rickety chair, crossing his arms as he stated, “I’ve been around many addicts before all this shit.” 

As if mirroring Chance’s body language, Faith crossed her arms in turn before turning her body away from him.“I just suffered from a head injury,” She rebuked, sticking her nose up. “Concussions can result in vomiting,” Faith added haughtily.

Chance looked at her shaking body and grabbed one of her hands much to the young woman’s surprise. “Hey!” She yelped.

He brought it up to eye level keeping his hand steady, “Explain this, then?” Holding her hand steady they both watched as it shook involuntary, goosebumps raising on her arm. He dropped it and pointed to the sweat on her forehead, “Or how you’re sweating while still shivering.” Her eyes darkened, narrowing as she looked at him. “There’s a lot that happened to your body, but I’m pretty sure not having your constant _Bliss_ is a big reason behind it.” 

“I’m fine,” Faith growled as her hands balled into fists, “I just need to go home and lie down.” She tried to stand but quickly lost her balance. Chance caught her before she could hit her head again and had her sitting down before reclaiming his spot across from her. “Besides, I’m only here because of _you_ .” She poked his chest with her index finger, “ _You’re_ the one that pushed me down on the ground.”

Chance stood above her, his fists clenched. “I saved your life is what I did! So, _you’re welcome._ ” His heart started to beat in his ears and he shut his eyes. One breath. Two breaths. Three — _God, she was so frustrating!_

“It wasn’t their fault that the grenade was thrown in _my_ direction. That was all because of you!” She stood to look up at him defiantly with those blue-green eyes

“Even if it was, you would have been killed if not for me pushing you out of the way,” Chance pointed out. The threads of his patience were being pulled dangerously taut by this obstinate young woman.

“I was trying to run away like they said I should!” Faith snapped. “You threw the smoke bomb!”

“Oh that- that’s rich!” Chance laughed derisively as he clasped his hands at the new she gave him. “So they didn’t even bother to make sure you were out of harm's way!” Chance put a hand to his chest, his words short. “But _I_ stopped, _I_ watched over you, and _I_ made sure you would have been found before the fire got to you.” 

Faith flinched ever so slightly, in an attempt to hide her feelings at the admission.

Chance tsked at her silence, then shook his head in incredulity as he pointed out, “You were in clear view and they _still_ chose to ignore you!”

“They wouldn’t have thought to look for me,” Faith admitted , looking off-balance at her own words. “I wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place!”

“Why would they care? If you died, they would just replace you!” Chance was hunched over, inches from Faith’s face. He saw the muscles of her jaw twitch, her throat gulp, and then...misting in her eyes. _Shit_...Chance shouldn’t have said that, and he was kicking himself for it as he clearly crossed a line.

With a sudden show of surprising strength, Faith shoved him away from her. Chance stumbled backwards causing the coffee table to groan in protest as he staggered back into it. “They could never replace me! I am the most faithful! The most devoted!” Faith declared passionately as tears were streaming down her face and hands balled into fists at her sides. “They would never let anything like that happen to me! It was only because of you!” The young woman snapped like a lioness, before deflating like a balloon as she fell back onto the couch. 

Her emotional explosion took a toll on her body as she succumbed to trembles. The young woman clasped her hands upon her lap, her eyes now downcast as she gazed at her shaking hands. Desperately, she rubbed her fingers together in an attempt to soothe her quivering fingers, but her tears continued to cascade down her soft cheeks. .

Chance sighed, head and shoulders drooping in defeat. Cautiously, he walked towards Faith reaching out for her hands, but she shied away from him. “I’m sorry,” Chance practically whispered. His hovering hands falling limply on his knees. “That was a low blow,” He confessed as he knelt in front of her. “I shouldn’t have said it like that.” Faith slowly looked up to him, her lip trembling “I…” He began when a sobering thought struck him. He knew how to make this right, or at least start too. “Just-- just stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Chance stomped up the stairs to the attic, trying to keep the steps from being so heavy that they sounded angry. How could he have been such an idiot, yelling that in her face? Should he have felt _this_ bad about it though? He meant what he said. She was easily replaceable, according to everything he’d heard. He just shouldn’t have yelled it an inch from her face. He shook those thoughts from his head, now...he’d make things right, or at least as best he could…With renewed vigor, he climbed the last step. Green eyes peered around the room and spotted the blue hydro flask on the desk next to the spectrometer and elemental analyzer. 

Chance only had the Bliss in an attempt to study it. His curiosity drove him to find out more about it and the amount of equipment he had access to made it an easy itch to scratch. Granted, he was nowhere near the level his father was, but Ray did take a lot of notes and was thorough in his procedures. Chance swiped the flask and made his way back downstairs, where he found Faith still on the couch, wiping her face clean of her tears.

He placed the blue bottle on the table. “Do you use water to take it?” His words were short despite his softer tone.

“What?” Faith’s voice sounded so soft and innocent again.

Chance inhaled through his nose. “I haven’t ever seen anyone drink Bliss straight, so do you need water to take it?” He looked to the kitchen, the subtle glimmer of a can catching his eye. “Or do you want to put it in some food? I have some canned soup.”

“I- Uh-” Faith stuttered as she looked up at him through widened doe eyes. No doubt she was surprised by Chance’s sudden offer. “I’ll just take the water for now.” After a pause, Faith added, “Thank you.” 

Chance gave a curt nod in response and got up to grab her a glass. Chance opened the can, dumping its chunky brown liquid contents in a bowl which quickly made its way to a microwave. 

He filled and walked the glass to her. “Here. I’m making you soup too, which I _insist_ you eat.”

Faith softly snorted through her nose as she half-smiled. “Thanks.” She carefully poured a small amount of the green liquid into the water as Chance watched. The water took on a green tint as she mixed it with her finger. It was so light you almost wouldn’t think there was anything but water in the glass. The beep of the microwave startled them both.

Chance pulled the hot bowl out with one of the kitchen towels and brought it to her. “Careful,” he cautioned, setting it on the table before going to grab her a spoon. “It’s pretty hot.” He placed the spoon in the bowl as he made his way to sit in the arm chair, picking up the journal from where it laid on the floor. “You know I’ve talked to Tracey...” Faith didn’t look up to him as she drank the water. “I know that you had a drug addiction before this.”

“That’s long behind me,” Faith said, absently stirring the soup counter-clockwise. “The Father helped me see a new path, one with purpose. He helped to free me of that addiction.”

He rolled his eyes scoffing, “Yeah by taking you from one addiction to the next.” Blue green eyes glowered at him in response. “Look I just don’t see how you can just blindly follow him. I know he helped you when you were at your lowest but…,” Chance sighed, raking his calloused fingers through his brown hair. “Look I know how hard it is to stop doing something that numbs the pain, I just can’t help but feel that you never really had a chance to see life without the substances for a very long time.” There, he had said it. Finally stated what bothered him about her connection to the Bliss.

Faith paused in stirring her soup and quietly appraised him.“I don’t use the Bliss to mask my pain. It helps me feel more connected to the New Eden.” She smiled and her eyes glossed over with a far away look. Chance was surprised to see how fast acting the Bliss was as he observed it take hold of Faith’s body again. There was going to be no arguing about it with her now. 

“Whatever you say. Just know it seems suspicious that Joseph would free you of one drug just to put you on something that seems very similar to your old vice,” Chance said coldly watching her drink the rest of the water down, still not having touched the soup. “You should really eat.”

“You could have poisoned this,” she looked him up and down suspiciously, “Or are you just stalling so your friends can show up?” She let a spoonful of the soup drip back into the bowl, “For all I know you’re going to drug me and use me as a bargaining chip.”

Chance raised his eyebrows at her, shocked, “You _just_ saw me make it in front of you. I wouldn’t be so blatant in drugging you. I’m not that stupid.”

She blew the spoon cooling it before taking a bite, “That still doesn’t answer my question about the stalling.”

“I’m pretty sure no one even knows you’re here. I fell asleep so for all _I_ know you’re stalling until your brothers come and I become their new play thing.” 

She smiled knowingly, “You’re the one they’ve been waiting for Chance. You determine how this all ends.”

“I never wanted to be the deciding factor,” Chance grumbled leaning back on the chair crossing his arms. “So can I expect Jacob taking a battering ram to my door?” 

She stirred the spoon clockwise watching the rice move with it, “No, I slept until you woke me.” She placed the bowl on the table in front of her slumping back into the sofa, “Should probably see if my stomach will handle what I just ate.” 

_But you only had a bite..._ Chance thought, but he held his tongue.

Silence grew between them, letting the chirps of crickets and rustling of tree branching trees fill the warm cabin. It seemed that they were both at a loss for what unanswered questions to broach first. Green eyes studied blue-green, neither wanting to lose this game by even blinking. Chance noticed the way her hands folded and unfolded in her lap every other breath. He took to bringing his hand to his chin rubbing the bottom of it with his thumb, a habit his grandfather would say reminded him of his dad. 

Faith was an enigma, the one thing he felt at war with in his head. He wanted so badly to figure her out, but it seemed that every time he made it through one of her layers of mist two more were put up. It was frustrating, Chance wanted to give up on trying to find his way through the fog, it couldn’t be worth it. The only thing bringing him back to her fog was his curiosity, the need for answers.

There were a few things he just couldn’t wrap his head around: how she seemed to tune out any criticism of her precious Father; how Faith abandoned her friend in favor of false promises; and finally how she was drugging people against their will, controlling them, all so some psychopath could use them. It didn’t sound like the young woman Tracey once knew, which gave Chance pause as to wonder... _what happened_? The way Tracey talked about the woman she knew Faith was never one to be cruel, she had a good heart. Did Faith think she was doing good being in the Project? It was just the act, everyone said so, it was to garner sympathy. Get people to underestimate her. That first day they really met and talked...she could have told her brothers he was there. He didn’t leave from that spot for another couple hours and returned there multiple times. She had every reason to give them a tip to where he liked to hang out...she didn’t though or else he wouldn’t be here. She was still so frustrating...and pretty...and a habitual liar, supposedly...and her laugh made everything seem okay...and-

The static of Chance’s radio signaled the end of their staring contest. Both looked towards the door of his room lazily, before Chance got up slowly, groaning “I’ll be right back.” He went to his room picking up the radio, catching a glimpse of his disheveled state in the mirror on the back of the door. “Go for Chance,” he said as he closed the door looking for fresh clothes that would be comfortable for the night. He could shower in the morning. 

“Chance,” the voice on the line was easy to recognize as Whitehorse, “boy am I glad to finally hear from you. Heard about what happened near the bridge.”

Chance had stripped down and was pulling on some black sweats, “Nothing I couldn’t handle. I should have checked in sorry. I, uh, got busy and passed out.” He almost dropped the walkie trying to put the sweats on with one hand.

“So long as you’re safe, which is more than I can say for some of us out here,” Chance looked at the radio curious arching an eyebrow pulling on a grey shirt, “I guess Faith’s missing and they think we got her. They’re being ‘generous’ by giving us twenty four hours to give her back, but no one knows where she’s at.” 

Chance groaned sitting on the bed rubbing his temple, “Let me guess she was at the bridge too.”

“Right you are, kid. You wouldn’t happen to have seen where she went did ya?”

“Fuck,” he said under his breath, hanging his head. He had to lie and hope that Faith would be willing to let her brothers know she was safe. “No, I didn’t even know she was there. But I’ll see if she got lost in the woods near me. I’ll check in with you in a few hours.” He didn’t stay long enough to hear the response opening the door leaning on the frame arms crossed. “You’re going to have to call your brothers.”

She sat up on her elbows having taken to lying down again, “Wouldn’t that be dangerous for you?” 

“Maybe but they’re going to do a lot worse if they don’t hear from you.” He shrugged, “So a risk I’m willing to take.”

“What do I even say to them? I’m sure they think you have me, not much I could say that’ll let them believe otherwise.”

“Well you have to come up with something. Apparently they’re being generous by giving us twenty four hours to return you,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Bet it was Pretty Boy telling them in his ‘threatening’ voice,” she gave a smile, “How's the soup settling?”

She shrugged, “Pretty okay I guess. Thanks by the way.”

He waved a hand walking closer to her, “I just need you to think of something even if it means blaming me.” He looked to the pillow she had been lying on seeing the gauze he placed earlier, there was some blood on it, “Here let me check that cut again.”

She ran a hand through her hair looking at her clean palm, “No blood and I’m pretty sure I felt a scab.” She bit her lip, “Do you want me to say that you took me but I managed to escape?”

He knew he shouldn’t have found it funny but he couldn’t stop the chuckle from escaping, “Hey if you want. They hate me enough as it is,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “Besides it might make you look cool and competent.” She gave him a smile that made his heart skip a beat. He looked at the clock, “Let me get my radio so you can let your brothers know that you’re safe and unharmed,” she threw him a playful glare, “Okay _mostly_ unharmed,” her face brightened with her smile, “But know that you are safe while staying here.” That statement was going to bite him later, shouldn’t have said that.

Chance grabbed the radio and brought it out to her. She took it gently, their hands touching briefly, Chance’s heart sped up at the contact, _Get a grip Chance it’s just Faith_. “Thank you,” she got herself more settled crossing her legs under her. He gave a small smile as he worked to keep himself busy tidying up the mess of books and boxes he had started to go through. The static of the radio filled the room as she flipped between channels finally settling on one she must have known. “Hello? Joseph? Come in?” She stared at the radio not getting a response. “Joseph, it’s me Faith. Can you hear me?” She sighed as she got no response after five minutes. She went to flip through more channels settling again on another one, “John? John can you hear me? It’s Faith,” she looked down at it obviously trying to hide a sadness in her eyes. “John! Come in!” Chance looked at her with sympathy as her voice cracked with desperation. 

“Maybe try your channel?” Faith’s eyes met his, “Could be that they’re at your place looking for you,” he suggested as he went back to sifting through some old clothing. He just wanted anything to keep his hands busy hoping they actually answered her. He didn’t want her going back- Wait yes he did. This whole day was a mess because of her. Glancing at Faith fiddling with the strap of the radio he couldn’t help but want her to stay. He just didn’t like the idea of her being all alone if his earlier sentiment was proven true.

Her eyebrows raised, “Oh you’re probably right.” She switched to another channel, “Hello? Can anyone hear me?” Chance saw the worry that crossed her face, “It’s me, Faith.” 

She had started to look down when she didn’t get a response for a little bit, “Faith? Faith is that really you?” Chance rolled his eyes at the sound of John’s voice. 

“Yes it is,” she brightened, her lips turning in a smile, “I’m so glad you answered me I was-“

“Where are you?”

She flinched stiffening, “Oh, I’m in a cabin. On the border between the valley and Hebane.”

“Can you be any more specific with your location. Do that and we’ll send someone down immediately to come and get you.” Chance couldn’t help but notice the harshness in his tone. Chance knew the Seeds thought this was some kind of trap but it was like John could care less about Faith being safe. 

“Don’t worry about that John. I’ll find my own way back. I just need to rest a little longer. I- uh, I hit my head pretty hard.” She still kept her cheery tone in an attempt to put him at ease. “No one is going to find me, trust me.” 

There was silence on the radio, “We think it best you come home now, sister. Now just tell me where you are.” His voice lost it’s harshness taking on the sickly sweet caring tone, his signature.

Faith looked to Chance, “What do I say? I don’t want to bring him down here. Is there a place out here that’s abandoned?”

Chance rubbed his chin in thought, “Not that I can think of off the top of my head. Maybe close to his ranch there’s one but we’d have to walk there and who knows how long that will take.”

“Faith? Are you still there?” John asked, his voice becoming more sing-song, grating. 

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry. I’m trying to figure out where I am,” Faith rushed, “I never was good with directions,” she giggled despite her face showing worry. Chance quickly got out a map of the area where he had marked cabins and other places of importance. They looked at it together. The two of them needed a place that was within walking distance and one that could buy them some time before they showed up to get her. Faith pointed to a small cabin on the other side of the river, “What about there?”

Chance shook his head, “No. Only safe way to get there is if we swim across. Sorry to say it would look a bit too suspicious if you’re there soaking wet. Unless you want to blame me.” 

She shook her head, “Not this time Deputy,” he shook his head scoffing quietly. When they were normal circumstances again he’d correct her, “I should, but next time.”

Chance gave her a side eye briefly, hopefully there wouldn’t be a next time. Chance pointed to a location that was near the bridge, “Here’s a good place. It’s remote enough that they’ll have to walk the last quarter mile and we can beat them there if we start walking now.” Faith gave a swift nod getting herself up, the radio still in hand. Chance stood grabbing her an old coat from a box storing his clothes from high school. “Here wear this I’m sure it’s cold out there.” 

She smiled at him, the mood starting to feel lighter, slipping the black faux leather jacket on, “Smells like teen boy.” She gave a fake gag. 

Chance laughed, “I wouldn’t be surprised since it was mine from when I was sixteen, I think.” He was glad for the change in mood, he didn’t want her hating him more than she did, though the lightness may have had more to do with the fact that Bliss was in her system. He looked her up and down noticing her bare feet. He started to make his way back to his old room, “Here give me a minute,” he pulled out some dark purple converse from the closet. Chance wasn’t entirely sure where they came from, but it seemed likely it was some summer girlfriend that was only there for one trip never to be seen again. They looked like they would fit Faith seeing as any of his old shoes would have all been too big. He walked back out passing them to her, “Here take these too. Don’t need you to add frostbite to your list of injuries.”

She gave him a smile as she put the shoes on, “Surprising. A perfect fit.” She held out a foot admiring the shoe. “Just doesn’t seem like your style though?” 

He opened the door for her slipping on his denim jacket and boots, “That may be a story for our walk,” he waved for her to exit, giving a slight bow. She returned it with a small curtsey. 

The night air was crisp and cold giving Chance a reason to button up his denim jacket. Chance put his hands in the pockets where he realized he forgot to grab a flashlight, _Come on Chance._ At least the light from the full moon provided allowed them to see pretty clearly. He patted his jacket, seeing as it was the only thing he wore that had places to store items, he found he forgot to bring a weapon of any kind too. He looked up to the trees letting out a breath, “Fuck.” How did he get to being so careless all of a sudden? It had to be lack of sleep and the soreness in his body. It had to be. He cleared his throat looking to Faith, “Okay go ahead and call him back I’ll tell you what he should know to get there.” 

She nodded rubbing her hands together before taking the radio out of her jacket pocket, “John I know where I’m at now. Sorry for the wait.” There was silence, she bit her lip, “I’m in a cabin near the west end of the bridge. I think it’s one of the rental ones.” 

She looked to Chance, “It has a green and red roof,” he provided.

“It has a green and red roof,” she repeated, followed by a silence on the line. 

“Not to many of those out that way,” John told her, both of them let out a breath they held in, “We’ll be there as soon as we can. Glad to know you’re safe.”

She handed Chance the radio back, “So,” she elongated the O as she stuck her hands into the pockets of the leather, “what’s the story about the shoes?”

Chance looked ahead of him with a smile on his face, “Not much to tell,” he shrugged, “We used to come up here every summer. One summer when I was in high school I was just walking around the woods trying to sketch plants and this girl came out of nowhere.” He shook his head, “A lot like how you found me the first time by the river.” He saw a small blush come to her cheeks, continuing, “She was lost, so I helped her get back.”

“And you two dated?” She looked at him through her lashes.

He shrugged, rolling off the effect of her eyes, they were a pale blue in the moonlight, “If you want to call it that. Summer fling feels like a better description.”

“So it wasn’t that serious between the two of you?” He glanced to her eyes that sparkled and wide with curiosity, “Despite the fact she left her shoes with you.”

“Nah,” he looked away towards the sky filled sky rolling his neck from side to side, “ it was never serious. I liked being around her and she wanted to not feel so bored.” He chuckled at the memories of that summer. She really was a nice girl but hated to be around her parents, entitled enough to think she was being punished by spending a summer in Hope County. “I think we were drinking and she took them off switching for sandals when we left my house to go to a bonfire with a few other ‘friends’ she had met here.” Chance tried to think back on their faces, “I don’t think any of them were from here. A bunch of rich kids on vacation with their parents.” 

“You never thought to return them to her?”

Chance laughed a little louder than he should have, startling a few creatures that lay hidden in the night time shadows, shaking his head, “It was her last night there and I didn’t realize they were there until a few days later.” He gestured to Faith, “But see it worked out for you cause now you have shoes for this moment.”

She gave him a smile, her body seeming more relaxed, “I might wear them a bit more. I like the color.” She stepped in front of him walking backwards for a few steps, “Maybe I should make this a whole new look for me. What do you think?” They paused for half a step as she twirled for him, her arms outstretched like a ballerina. 

He gave her a smirk, he really did like the way it all looked together. The black leather with the white lace and flowers contrasted innocence with rebellion. The shoes going with either look and theme she chose for the day. “I like the look on you. Suits you,” she beamed at him looking down shyly, “Though some people might find it a little inappropriate for you.” 

Chance wished he could take the words back as he saw her face fall, “Oh, right. I have an image to keep up.” He walked up to her rubbing her upper arms.

Chance saw her face turn pensive and sad, “You can still keep the jacket and shoes. Wear them in your leisure time or when you want to step away from it all.” He put an arm around her shoulders as they started to walk again, “I’m sure it’s going to make the perfect disguise for you to sneak out,” he walked his fingers in front of her, hearing the quiet laugh from her. “No one would recognize you in the jacket alone,” he put a big smile on his face and looked at her face seeing the small smile form. 

“You’re probably right,” both looked up seeing the cabin ahead. She stopped and turned to Chance, “Thank you for helping me Chance, even though it was your fault,” she gave a mischievous glare. She put her hands in the pockets, “I can take it from here. Gives you a little more time to get out of harm's way.” 

It was his turn to feel his smile fade a little, “Yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “you’re right.” He righted himself pointing at her disapprovingly, “Hopefully you don’t get caught up in something like that ever again though.” He tried his best to keep his face serious but the smile she brought out so easily reigned supreme.

She giggled, rolling her eyes, as she placed a hand on his cheek, “Well if I do,” she raised up on her toes giving him a kiss on the cheek, “I’m sure my white knight will be there to save the day.” Chance was glad it was dark so she couldn’t see the blush rising to his cheeks. His skin burned where she touched him and his heart was speeding like a freight train. She backed away turning towards the cabin, “Till next time Deputy Chance,” she called out as she faded into the trees. 

Chance gave a sigh as he turned back towards his house. He liked Faith. He didn’t know why, but he did. Maybe it was her eyes… Blue-green and somehow holding the whole world in them. Chance shook the thought out of his head. “Don’t forget about the curse, Chance,” he hissed to himself as he kicked a rock a few paces. “Not to mention the whole cult-leader thing...” 

Chance’s attempts to talk himself out of liking Faith proved futile. He couldn’t stop thinking about her as he walked back home, and he could still feel where she touched him once he made it back. 

“If this is a gift from you guys,” he said, pointing accusingly at the pictures in the shrine above his fireplace, “you’re hilarious. Real fucking hilarious.” With that, Chance left the living room to try and get some sleep. But it proved hard when all his dreams were still filled with her. Her eyes, her halo of hair, the music of her laughter... Chance was screwed. He damn well knew it, too.


	4. Wingman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to meet the Ryes!

_ July 7th, 2003 _

_ Came across Nicholas Rye while at the store yesterday. Haven’t seen that kid since he was just coming into his own and getting into some trouble with my father, can’t believe he’s nineteen already. He asked me if I wouldn’t mind being his wingman for the night, he said I had a good face for it. Should have known something was off with that line. I thought he just wanted help on the plane, turns out he wanted help at the bar. Dad and Chance laughed at me once I told them. “Dad I’m nine and even  _ I  _ know what wingman means.” Exact quote from my boy. Nicholas struck out, I feel bad for the poor kid. I told him that he needed to expand his horizons and if he ever wanted to come to Bozeman I’d show him a few places he might have a bit of luck in. I doubt he’ll take my offer though.  _

Lying on the top of a hill, alone, trying to pinpoint every guard at John’s ranch was not what Chance had envisioned. When Nick told him he needed help with getting his plane back Chance expected Nick to actually  _ help  _ him. Nick chose to stay behind and take care of his wife, Kim, Chance couldn’t blame him, he guessed. It was just that Kim could take care of herself, Chance saw her do it while they tried to storm the house. Nick was just...well Nick. 

“Just go and get my plane Chance. It’ll be easy,” Chance grumbled to himself as he put his binoculars back. There was an alarm near the back of the house and one towards the front, Chance was going to have to take those out unless he wanted more trouble. The dirt shuffled under him as he wiped off the small rocks and dirt on his hands and legs, sitting up. Chance didn’t see any sign of John’s car so that gave him some relief. As much as he wanted to confront John he was far from being prepared to confront John just yet, at least according to Earl. If it was up to Chance he wouldn’t mind taking out John now, stop his clensings and confessions, one less Seed brother to worry about. “Okay I just need to get the keys and then get to the hangar,” it was only two steps, “Piece of cake.”  _ Oh who am I kidding,  _ he thought,  _ there’s no way I could go snooping through the ranch trying to find keys for it.  _

Chance knew there was a high chance that the keys would be hidden in John’s office, which according to some was near the back of the ranch. Chance shouldn’t have agreed to this, or at the very least agreed to doing it on his own. It’s not like anyone was willing to help him though, it was just expected of him to help out everyone he came across. Chance gave a sigh, shaking his nerves out making his way down the hill. He kept low as he made his way closer to the ranch hiding in the bushes on the east side of the building, having a decent vantage point of the back. He just needed a small window of opportunity to make it to the alarm in the back of the building. If Chance could just stick to the back of the building and remain unseen there was no need to take out the second one. 

Chance had counted fifteen people total, nine of which looked like guards, he figured the rest had to be armed also. There were only two in the back, one dark haired and bulky squatting over a box, the other older and balding loading things in a small crate. Chance looked around, spotting a ladder that would put him near an open window. There were only two in the back, easy enough to take down, so maybe he didn’t need to break the alarm. Chance could just sneak past and make his way into the grand house. By the time any of the peggies knew he was there he would be in the plane with a bigger gun. That sounded like a better plan. Once he got up there and through the window he could then look around the house, hopefully there weren't very many people inside.  _ Then again it’s easier to hide in a house and there are more weapons,  _ Chance thought as he tried to look for an opportunity to make his move. 

He saw the bald man leave from the back area and Chance couldn’t see any sign of another one coming back. It was now or never. Chance slinked closer to the man that remained, his footsteps whispering along the dirt. The man never looked up from his work as Chance wrapped an arm around the man's neck, his other hand trying to reach behind the dark haired man’s head. Chance was attempting to get a good grip so he could perform a sleeper hold, one he thought he had mastered by this point. 

This guy was bigger than Chance and was struggling more than the others. Chance was losing his grip, Chance tightened it, his arm moving the bulky chest struggling to get a better hold on the guy. Chance’s other hand went for the guy's mouth trying to muffle any sounds of struggle. Chance went to tighten his grip on the guy’s chin,  _ I need plan B, _ just as Chance was moving his hand in place the man turned his head fairly quickly. Chance felt his hand push farther on the twisting head. There was a crunching sound before the guy went limp. Chance quickly released his hold on the man, his body falling to the ground.

Chance took a step back, green eyes wide in horror.  _ Wait...did I? Is he… _ Chance thought as he heard the conversations of trigger happy peggies around him quickly pushing the thought out of his head quickly moving the guy behind the workbench. The dark haired man didn’t even look like he was breathing. Chance rushed up the ladder slipping through the open window quietly, a queasy feeling in his stomach. Chance ignored the feeling as he kept low to the ground, he was thankful that the window had led to an empty room. He pulled the curtains closed hoping it would help conceal him more as he walked around the room. Chance let out a breath as he took in his surroundings.

The room was paneled with golden wood, plush off white carpet under Chance’s dirtied boots. A mint green plastic square table with four matching chairs wrapped around it was just off center in the room. A light grey sofa in front of a flat screen, all the amenities one would need for a good movie night had taken up most of the room. Two bookshelves lined one of the walls, the shelves filled with board games and books on various subjects, from fantasy to psychology to law. Small model planes were scattered within the decor that all seemed more suited for, in Chance’s opinion, a young woman than John Seed.  _ The hell kind of a man are you Boeing?, _ Chance thought as he rolled his eyes making his way to the door. He stood behind it opening it just a crack listening to the sounds of the house. 

Chance heard a few sets of footsteps, all appearing to be below where he was. People who had seen floor plans of the house said that office was on the second floor, near the back of the house. Chance opened the door more, slipping out hugging the wall as he moved to his left. Chance kept his feet light and his ears open. The first door he came to, proved to be only a bathroom. There were two more doors along this wall before he would be in people’s line of sight.  _ If I was Pretty Boy I’d want a corner office. Just like all the other hot shot business people,  _ Chance rationalized. He skipped over the door in the middle going straight for the last one lowering himself to the floor. 

Opening the door a crack Chance could see the corner of a dark wood desk, he smiled to himself as he slipped in closing the door as quietly as possible. Chance fell to the floor once he saw that the windows looked down on his ranch and the curtains were pushed away from them. Chance could close the curtains and hope that no one would be the wiser or leave them open and just keep low. Chance moved around on all fours seeing the angles that the windows looked out of, when he saw that there was a thinner fabric hiding behind the curtains, and on a separate railing. If he closed those it would give him a little more cover but would keep the appearance that the windows were open. There was a part of Chance that was starting to figure out how stupid of a plan this was. This was an impulse plan and could already hear Whitehorse criticizing him when, or if, he found out what Chance had done. Chance should have just tried his luck in hot wiring the plane.

Chance made his way to both windows pulling the thin white fabric to the center of the windows. Chance let out a sigh of relief when he was able to stand again. A beeline was made for the desk as Chance started opening the drawers shuffling through the papers in them. The top left drawer was the only one that proved itself locked,  _ That had to be where it was. _ Chance took out his pocket knife and worked on jimming the lock open. He’d done it before but then again he could have just gotten lucky,  _ hopefully _ his luck was with him today. He hadn’t been caught yet so it must have been.

Chance soon heard a click as the drawer slid open.  _ Come to Chancey,  _ he thought as he rubbed his palms together _. _ Chance looked at the drawer seeing how it only held a few pens, keys, and a few other items one would find in an office. It was disappointing and frustrating. No. There was no reason that someone like John would have a drawer of miscellaneous items locked. Chance knocked on the bottom of the drawer hearing a hollow sound.  _ A false bottom,  _ Chance pulled it up seeing more keys labeled with different planes and their numbers, and a silver chain with a rose gold ring set with a rainbow of gems embedded in the metal. 

“Fuck!” Chance hit the top of the desk, “None of these keys match the description Nick gave me.” Chance was at a loss as to what to do next. Could he hotwire a plane? No one saw him and it didn’t sound like anyone knew he was there. He could easily slip out of here and drag Nick’s ass back here to help him. This would have been so much easier if Nick hadn’t kept the spare keys with him. Chance didn’t argue cause the logic sounded good at the time. If things went south Nick could still have a chance to get his plane back. Besides to everyone in Hope County Chance had met so far, Chance was invincible, he could do anything. 

Chance looked back to the drawer and the glinting rainbow of jewels. “Mr. Solo Wannabe isn’t going to miss this,” Chance swiped the chain. If anything it would be his own personal souvenir, show people he made it into John Seed’s personal office, “Or cover my therapy when this is all over.”

Chance heard movement outside the door as he stuffed the ring in his pocket. Chance pulled his handgun from the holster on his right hip aiming for the door. Chance moved closer to the window readying to jump if he needed too as the door swung open. A tall bald burly man walked through shutting the door behind him easily. The two stood staring at each other for a few seconds, green and hazel eyes assessing the other. 

Chance took in what the man was wearing, a plain grey shirt with the long sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Chance could see the hilt of a sword on the top of his right hand and shields with various crests tattooed up the same arm. The man wore overalls that layered over the shirt and bulletproof vest nestled between the two items of clothing. Chance didn’t see any symbols of the cult on him and wouldn’t have thought him one of the Peggies had it not been for the red accents on his AK-M, Jacob’s signature. This man was one of Jacob’s top men, his Chosen, he was probably John’s personal bodyguard. This could turn real bad for Chance if he didn’t play this right. 

The cult member brought his hands up, pushing the gun to hang on his back, “You wouldn’t happen to be Chance would you?” His voice was rough with a slight mocking tone. Chance nodded slowly watching his every move. The man raised his eyebrows giving a small nod, “I have something for you then,” he pointed to his left pocket, “I just have to get it from my pocket.”

He started to reach for it, “No! Stop!” Chance commanded. The guy put his hand back in place.

“Listen kid, you’re the one pointing the gun. You make the rules here.” Chance narrowed his eyes,  _ What kind of game is this guy playing? _ “Tell you what. You can come and take it from my pocket.”

“How do I know you’re not going to shoot me?”  _ Or just use your brute strength to capture me.  _

“You don’t,” the man took a step closer, Chance emphasized pointing the gun again at the member, “but you need the keys to get that eye sore of a plane out of here.” The guy smiled, chuckling, “So you’ve got nothing to lose.” 

Chance’s narrowed eyes moved up and down the older man’s body looking for anything to tip him off to what the guy’s next move would be. Chance turned his body to the side taking a few steps closer, his gun never leaving its position, so far the guy didn’t make a move that  _ seemed _ sinister. When Chance was finally a few inches away he placed the barrel of the gun right on the man’s chest, “You make  _ one move _ and it’ll be your last,” he warned, making his voice sound as cold as he could. 

“Understood Deputy,” the thought of putting a bullet through this guy for using the apparently universal nickname didn’t go unnoticed by Chance. Chance reached into the left pocket of the overalls feeling the enamel keychain with the words Rye and Sons. Chance pulled it out looking at the key attached to it. Nick said the key itself was marked with a N and R engraved at the base, which he saw as Chance flipped it over. “I told ya,” the man said his voice more intimidating, “Now you should probably back away.” 

“I thought I make the rules here,” Chance retorted. 

“True,” Chance missed the guy’s fist coming for his face. Chance took a few steps back, “But now you need a distraction.” The guy brought his gun out aiming for Chance at first, “You better run kid.” 

The guy moved the aim of the gun to the wall on their left shooting off a few rounds. Chance’s finger on the trigger let out two rounds being startled by the actions of the man in front of him. “What are you doing?” Chance yelled in confusion.

“Creating a distraction,” he shot a few rounds into the window behind Chance, “Go through the window! Run straight across to the roof of the hangar. There’s a window on the roof, use that to get in. The button for the doors is just at the bottom of the stairs.” Chance looked around confused. Should he trust the guy? Chance could hear the sounds of more people shuffling inside, “I said  _ GO! _ ” Chance didn’t even nod as he shot two more bullets in the window sprinting out of it to the roof. 

Chance felt the sting of the glass as it scrapped against him, and almost fell off when a bullet landed just below his feet. He heard shouts and gunfire as he ran across the roof. When he got to the edge he saw that there was at least a ten foot gap between the hangar and the house. Chance’s heart was racing, his fear leaving his body as he quickly thought of how much space he needed to jump the ten feet. Chance backed up a few yards, dodging a few bullets coming his way. He took one last deep breath as he sprinted leaping off the roof.  _ Just like Blood Dragon _ , Chance thought as he felt his body soar above the ground. Chance’s calculations were a little off as he made impact with the slant of the metal roof. Chance’s nails scraped on the teal meta, the sound piercing his ears, tips of his fingers burning. Both of Chance’s feet were on the roof for now as he managed to, by some miracle, push himself up to grab onto the edge of the flat part of the roof. 

_ Clink!  _ A bullet bounced off the metal nearly hitting Chance’s hand. Chance flinched before heaving himself up standing in plain view of everyone around him. The sound of the alarms gave warning to more people coming, “Well this is just great,” Chance groaned as he looked for the window the peggie told him about. There on the other side of the roof it was already open, “Thank the lord,” Chance yelped as another bullet landed at his feet,  _ They just want to see me dance don’t they? _

Chance ran to the window diving into it hand gun ready to shoot anyone that came after him. There was only one poor sap in the hangar and he didn’t have his gun ready, too busy singing along to the hymns. Chance took one shot at him, he got him in the chest, as he bolted down the stairs hitting the button for the doors to open. Keys in hand Chance got himself up the plane into the seat shutting the door behind him, as the light came pouring in from the afternoon sun. 

Chance was smiling to himself, he actually did it. He managed to pull it off. Chance raised a fist in the air, “Hell-!” Chance looked down to the controls, “Fuck!”. HIs fist came back down as he looked at all the buttons, knobs, and gauges, it was all more complicated than he thought it would be. At least Chance knew how to work the radio, “Nick! I’m in your plane.”

“Oh wow you already got it! Just fly it over here!”

There were bullets hitting the wing, Chance glanced over his shoulder, three cult members came in through the door at the top of the stairs. They were scrambling to get down the stairs. “Yeah see that’s kind of a problem….I never flew a plane and I’ll be honest I didn’t think it would be hard but there’s, oh shit,” Chance tried to see if he could move the plane forward, to no avail, seeing the three project members getting closer to the plane.

“Don’t worry it's not that hard with that plane, partner,” Chance rolled his eyes. “Now you see the two levers on your right one’s black the other is red.”

Chance glanced down seeing them, “Yeah.”

“Okay now pull that black lever out towards you once you start the engine.”

Chance did as Nick instructed feeling the plane start to move forward, “Woah okay it’s moving now what?” 

“Now just steer it like a car out of that hangar.” 

Chance saw the runway to his left and managed to maneuver the plane out the bay doors, “Okay I’m on the runway now what?”

“That black lever you pulled out? You’re going to push it in while pulling back on the steering wheel just a little bit. Once you get to a speed like you’re driving on a highway, you plant those heels and pull back pushing that black lever in.”

“Okay if you say so Nick,” Chance doubted. Chance felt the plane gain speed quickly as he heard bullets bouncing off of the metal. Chance was shaking as he spotted a guy with a flamethrower aimed right at him. Chance panicked pulling back on the steering wheel harder and faster than he should have. “Shit! Fuck!” The plane didn’t gradually raise to the air like Chance thought it would, just straight up in the air. Chance felt like he was going to be sick, but at least he was off the ground. 

Once Chance was well above the trees he gently pushed on the steering wheel feeling the plane flatten out his heart beating out of his chest.  _ What a rush! _ “How you doin’, Deputy? She take off okay?”

“It’s Chance,” he looked down out the window, his stomach turning, “but yeah I think she’s doing okay. I’m flying towards the YES sign right now,” he responded looking back in front of him.

“You want to shoot it down?” Nick asked with a little too much excitement.

“Uh not right now I’m still trying to handle the fact that I’m  _ flying a plane _ right now.”

“Oh well, maybe tomorrow,” the disappointment clear, “Now just steer it like a car. The nose of the plane is gonna lead you to where you want to go.”

“Okay...Uh Nick where  _ do  _ I go?” 

“Hang a left like you’re turning back to where you just came from.” Chance did just that accidentally rolling in the plane, _ Never mind I never want to do this again, _ “Okay once you do that look for the big grey roof I put some yellow lines down for you.”

“Okay just look for yellow lines and a big grey roof,” Chance whispered his heart racing, this was worse than the time he drove off in a stolen sports car. That adventure didn’t have him leaving the ground for long periods of time though, and liquid courage was coursing through his veins. Thankfully John didn’t have his minions coming after Chance in their own planes,  _ Not yet at least. _ Chance tried to look for the yellow lines fighting his spinning head as he looked towards the ground from this altitude. Relief spread through his body when he spotted the yellow lines, “Hey Nick I see the yellow lines.”

“Perfect! Now you just got to land her nice and gentle like.” 

“Uhhh,” Chance hesitated looking at the controls again, “How do I do that?” 

“Okay just aim the nose of the plane right down the middle of them and slowly push forward on the steering wheel but when you get closer to the ground pull back just a little. You should start to feel the wheels touch the ground.”

None of that made much sense to Chance but he followed each instruction one at a time hoping for the best. Soon Chance felt like he was on the road, “I assume I start to hit the brakes now?”

“Right you are.” Chance hit the brakes harder than he should have, “Say once you slow down enough try and turn it towards the hangar here.”

Chance laughed at the thought, “Yeah that’s not gonna happen. Just meet me on the air strip and you can guide it.” Chance pumped the brakes as he felt the plane make a full stop just outside the hangar. Chance saw Nick run up to him taking his hat off running a hand through his shaggy brown hair.

“You got her back for me. You really got her back for me!” Nick’s eyes were misting, placing the ball cap back on, “You know my grandfather bought this plane after World War Two,” Nick’s hand caressed the fading yellow of the Kimberlite, “who then gave it to my old man who gave it to me.” Nick looked over the plane looking for anything out of place. Chance watched and listened, nostalgia piercing his heart with Nick’s words, “If you can’t tell this plane means a lot to me,” Nick’s fingers brushed against the few bullet holes in the metal, “I can’t wait to pass this plane down to my son.”

Chance looked at Nick confused, “I thought Kim said you were having a girl?”

“Nah. It’s going to be a boy just you watch,” Nick didn’t even notice Chance’s smirk and snort of laughter, eyes too focused on the old plane. Nick gave a whistle as his inspection finished up, “At least John’s got some competent people working for him. Everything seems to be in order.” Chance opened his mouth to speak when he was bombarded with a hug, “Thank you. Thank you so much, Chance.” 

Chance stiffened at the praise patting the local on the shoulder, “It was no problem. I’m just glad I didn’t crash it,” Chance gave a chuckle before pulling himself away. 

Nick wiped his face of the tears that fell, “Come on let’s get this plane ready. Kim and I need to get the hell out of here.” Nick jogged to his house, Chance following. There was a pile of luggage just inside the house near the door that Kim was in the process of moving more into the house when the two men walked in. “Kim what are you doin’?”

“I’m not leaving Nick,” Kim told him, the heavily pregnant woman was huffing as she dragged one of the bigger suitcases towards their kitchen. 

“Kim we have too,” Nick grabbed two suitcases placing them outside the house. Chance stood to the side observing the couple. Chance wasn’t much of an expert in love but could see that this fight could turn big and he wasn’t wanting to get in the middle of it.

“I’m not leaving our  _ home _ Nick. You shouldn’t either,”Kim argued.

“I don’t want to but I don’t want our son being raised around these zeelots,” Nick had put too much emphasis on the Z.

Chance couldn’t help himself in correcting him, “Zealots.”

There was a brief pause as the two looked to Chance, who quickly turned his green eyes down to the floor embarrassed. “Yeah. Wh-What he said,” Nick said, breaking the silence.

“Then stay and fight back,” Kim took one of the suitcases from Nick placing it on the floor, “Help our friends, stop this from getting worse. Create a new life for our  _ daughter _ .” Kim stepped in front of him with a look of determination, “Are you really willing to roll over and let them take everything you and your family have built here over  _ generations _ ?” Something in Kim’s words must have hit a nerve in her husband as he stopped moving and looked at her. 

“Kim, I- I just want you both to be safe,” Nick’s voice cracked, “and if that means leaving here than I will.” Nick put the suitcase he held down reaching for his wife’s hand, “You and our son are the most important thing to me. My family history means nothing without you.” Chance glanced up from his boots shifting his weight. Nick’s sentiment struck a chord with Chance. He didn’t need his past to hold him to his home. His home was where his heart was, Kim, his daughter, and his plane, so long as he had that he knew where he fit in life.

“Nick,” Kim started softly the love clear as she spoke his name, “you know that’s not true. Think about all the times you talked about handing the business off to our daughter,” Kim’s words had Nick fall silent, “Do you  _ really  _ want to turn your back on that?”

“She’s right, Nick,” Chance said softly. The two looked to the young observer, “My grandfather helped build this place too and they’ve taken so much as it is. Don’t let them take your family’s legacy from you too.”

Nick’s blue eyes flitted between the two of them sadly opening his mouth to answer before closing it again. As he looked between the two of them one more time a look of determination took over his features. Looking his wife in the eye he proclaimed, “You’re right. I’m a Rye and Rye’s dig their heels in to the bitter end.” He leaned down to give Kim a kiss on the lips. Chance looked away with a slight blush coming to his cheeks, “I love you.”

Kim gave Nick a smile as she placed a hand on his cheek, “I love you too.” 

Chance shifted his weight causing a floorboard to creak, the couple looked his way, “You know Chance you ever need anything, and I mean  _ anything _ , you give me a call. You and me are like Butch and Sundance.” Nick gave Chance a fist bump before he went to grab the suitcases he placed outside the house.

Kim’s face turned to one of worry and confusion, “Uh, Nick they both died in the end,” her eyes followed her husband’s movements. Chance smiled holding back his laughter.

Nick glanced at his wife as he passed her with their belongings, “Nah.”

Kim looked like she was going to say more but shook her head thinking better of it. She turned to Chance grabbing his tattooed hands, Chance flinched at the gesture, “I trust you Chance. Take care of him.”

“Scouts honor,” Chance promised, giving her hands a squeeze.

She looked him up and down grabbing his upper arm, “When was the last time you had a proper meal?”

She wrapped her hand around him feeling the bone easily underneath, “Well define proper…,” Chance admitted in a sheepish tone.

She rolled her eyes, “You’re staying for dinner,” she patted his arm turning to the kitchen.

“No, it’s fine,” Chance backed towards the door, “I have some food at home and I don’t want to take from you two,” he stammered out his hand on the handle.

“I  _ insist _ ,” Kim looked through the fridge and cupboards pulling ingredients.

Nick walked behind Chance whispering, “You better just stay. That woman can be a handful. I find it better to just do as she says.”

“I heard that,” Kim called from the kitchen.

Nick chuckled, “I didn’t say anything.” 

“Chance you’re staying and that’s final.” Chance started to protest as Kim commanded, “Sit.” Chance moved to the couch taking a seat. There was no doubt she was ready to be a mom with a tone like that, not that Chance would know. 

The static on Chance’s radio went off John’s voice filling the room, “I know you think you’re slick Deputy, but trust me when I tell you this: I will find you  _ eventually _ and there will be no mercy. You will return what you’ve  _ stolen _ from me and then you will atone. One way or another I  _ will _ have you.” Chance rolled his eyes, turning the radio off.

“Doesn’t John know he’s not going to get the plane back that  _ he  _ stole from us?” Kim said getting the stove ready and turned on. Chance thought back to John’s words, if he meant the plane he would have said so. It seemed uncharacteristic of John to just omit that kind of information. Unless...that  _ wasn’t _ what John was talking about. The ring and chain stuffed away in Chance’s pocket started to weigh heavily,  _ Did Daddy Issues actually notice that I took his stupid ring? _ Chance shook the thought out of his head,  _ No he  _ has _ to be referring to the plane. _

Kim soon put Chance to work with some of the cooking, which just ended up with Chance making the salad since there was less chance of him screwing it up. Nick spent his time working on getting the house and hangar back in order. Chance focused on his job while he listened to Kim prattle on about what had been happening in the county beyond Eden’s Gate, turned out there was still a lot of small town gossip in full swing. Dinner took no more than forty five minutes to complete and Chance was setting the table when Nick walked in, his hands a greasy mess. 

“Nick!” Kim closed her eyes letting out a sigh, “Why do you insist on working on the plane just before dinner?” 

“She needed a little work,” Nick responded making his way to the upstairs of the house. “Don’t worry I’ll clean up.”

“Well don’t take too long. You  _ always _ complain when your food gets too cold.” 

“I won’t!” Chance and Kim could hear Nick grumble as he made his way up the stairs.

Kim sighed, shaking her head, “I swear he can be like a big kid sometimes.”

Chance gave her a small smile making room on the table for the main course, “Hopefully your daughter gets your sense in the gene lotto.” 

“Hopefully,” she laughed to herself, “But Nick’s going to be a great father.”

“Yeah he will be,” Chance met her brown eyes giving a shrug, “sometimes dads just have to be goofy.”

Nick came back down the stairs drying his hands, “See told you I wouldn’t be too long.” Chance and Kim rolled their eyes as she put the oven baked mac and cheese on the small round table. Nick inhaled deep, “See now that’s a mac and cheese. Not that watery crap John brought to our bbq once.”

“Nick you should have known that Indoor Sunglasses Make Me Look Cool, couldn’t cook worth a shit.” 

Nick laughed loudly, “I heard rumors that you insisted on not calling John by his real name. I just didn’t think it was real or you would be that funny.” 

Chance shrugged, “Well if he insists on not using my name I won’t use his.”

The three of them sat around the table making their plates, “So Chance you mentioned earlier that your grandfather helped build this place, does that mean you grew up here too?” Kim asked just as Chance took a bite. 

Chance tried to quickly finish, while wanting to savor how delicious it was, “God that’s good. But uh sort of. I came up here almost every summer as far as I can remember. My dad and grandfather grew up here though. Well mostly my grandfather, dad lived in MIssoula for almost ten years and then mom drama, which is pretty common apparently, staying here until he left for college in Bozeman.” Chance stopped his rambling taking another bite of the dinner.

“Who was your grandfather? Maybe my old man knew him,” Nick asked.

Chance swallowed, “Mickey Ruicknar. He probably knew  _ your  _ grandfather Nick. I remember him talking about you guys every now and then.”

“Ruicknar…,” Nick looked up to the ceiling in thought, “Hey wait!” Nick shouted excitedly, “You’re Ray’s kid!” Chance nodded his head, as Kim looked between the two of them confused. “Yeah your dad was my wingman once upon a time.”

Chance tried to think back on his dad’s life if there was ever a time his dad hung out with any friends that weren’t colleagues, “You sure you mean my dad? He wasn’t one for going out, unless it was to galas and school functions.” 

“Yep I’m sure. You look just like him!” Chance couldn’t help but laugh at Nick’s remark, “What’s so funny?”

“Well now I know you’re talking about someone else,” Chance looked at Nick amusement in his eyes, “I’m adopted, Nick. There isn’t any way that I can look like my father.” 

Both Nick and Kim’s eyes widened, “You’re adopted? No, you look so much like your father and grandfather,” Nick reasoned with Chance. “I remember your grandfather arresting me once for trespassing when my friends and I let a boar loose on some of the properties around here.” Kim scoffed, “It was only for a night don’t worry,” he reassured his wife. “It was worth it though,” Nick laughed at the memory, “But yeah Sheriff Mickey, he did a lot for this county. Your father included.” 

“I’m finding it more and more apparent the longer I stay here,” Chance lamented as he pushed some pieces of tomato around on his plate.

“Sorry to hear about them,” Nick said softly, their eyes turning to Chance with sympathy. 

Chance leaned an arm on the table pushing more of his food around, “It’s okay. I’m sorry to all of you here that I didn’t hold my grandfather’s service here like he wanted. I just didn’t realize how respected and remembered he was here.”

Kim reached out to hold Chance’s hand, “You were a kid Chance and you just lost the last of your family. No one could blame you for your reaction,” Kim’s voice was warm and sympathetic. The sound of it easing a pain in Chance’s heart he had felt each time someone in the county mentioned his grandfather. “It’s also not too late, Chance, to hold a remembrance for him.”

“Do you really think so?” Chance asked, his voice cracking.

Nick grabbed Chance’s shoulder giving it a squeeze, “Yeah. There’s never a time limit on that kind of stuff.” The sympathetic smiles the two of them wore lifted a weight in Chance’s chest. He could breathe again, more of his pain easing in his heart. Chance felt a lump form in his throat, the warmth spreading through his body was one he hadn’t felt since he was a teenager. For the first time in a long time Chance felt  _ loved.  _ He never even thought it possible to feel loved like this unless it was coming from family. God, was Chance glad he was wrong about that.

Chance swallowed, blinking back any tears he felt trying to save face. Kim nodded slowly, “Exactly. And tell ya what, if you want to hold one Nick and I will help you. You can even hold it here if you’d like.”

Chance nodded, “Thank you. I’ll think about it okay?” Both of them patted Chance before going back to their meals. 

They all ate in silence before Kim looked to Chance’s hands, “Are those chemical formulas on your hands?”

Chance looked down to his left hand, “Yeah.” Chance smiled, “My grandfather thought it would help me heal getting them tattooed on me when I was fifteen.” 

“What are they?” Setting her fork down Kim looked to Chance curiously. 

Chance held up his hand awkwardly trying to show it off to the two of them, “Well this one on top,” Chance pointed, “is the symbol for oxytocin also known as the cuddle or love hormone.” Chance pointed to the one below it, “This one is called vasopressin. It’s used in pair bonding.”

Nick looked to Chance confused, “Well nice to see you were going to follow your dad’s footsteps too.”

Kim shushed him, “Why have those tattooed on you?”

Chance placed his hand back on the table, “It was the two chemicals my father was looking into for his last big project,” Chance shrugged, “Well last project he ever did. It’s in his handwriting,” his voice nostalgic as he ran his fingers over the writing. He sighed, “Dad was trying to see if by injecting more of these hormones into an animal you can increase their chances of producing offspring that would then live long enough to reproduce themselves. It would help a lot with endangered species. ‘It can change the world Chance! There are so many possibilities to be had.’,” Chance let out a slow breath, “Sucks the only world it changed was mine.” Chance swallowed, he had never talked about this with anyone else that wasn’t his grandfather or the one therapist Mickey sent him too, “He went overseas to try and apply it, or something along those lines, but he didn’t make it back.” His voice cracked and Chance was having a hard time blinking back the tears forming, “He was close to coming home for good too,” he shrugged and pushed the thoughts away.

There were still a few tears that came down his cheeks as a hand was gently placed on his shoulder, “Well it’s a nice sentiment that you got his memory with you,” Nick told Chance, “Is the other one for your grandfather?” Chance nodded hunching over, he didn’t want to talk about them anymore. Nick’s voice became lighter, boisterous, “You didn’t do that thing where people put ashes into the ink did you,” genuine curiosity filled Nick’s features.

Chance looked up surprised, wiping his face, “There are people that actually do that?”

“I mean if you ask Zip he says there are plenty of people that do. It’s to help mask the micro trackers they put in the ink if you got a tattoo after 2005,” Nick rambled off to both Kim and Chance.

“I think you need to stop talking to Zip, honey,” Kim finally said.

Chance groaned, rubbing the back of his neck feeling the raised skin of the three inch scar, “Yeah I have to agree with Kim on this. I’ve heard some conspiracy theories but even that one is really out there.”

“Okay but what if it’s true!” Nick was serious about these theories.

“There is no way that’s true Nick,” Chance argued laughing. 

It was a two against one battle the rest of the dinner as Kim and Chance tried to debunk all the theories that Nick had heard from Zip. There was no winner in the end, as Nick still believed in them and there were a few neither Chance or Kim could argue against. Chance was invited to stay the night seeing how late it was once they all finished cleaning up. Chance, not wanting to overstay his welcome, politely declined preferring the quiet of his house for the long sleep he was preparing to have. 

The dark drive back to his house was longer than normal, Chance couldn’t get the image of the man at John’s house out of his head. Chance holding the guy, trying to get a good grip on him, the crack or maybe more of a snap, and then the limpness of the guy in his arms. As Chance pulled into his driveway he looked at his hands, “Did I actually kill him?” It wasn’t the first person he killed thinking about it, he used a gun when he killed before. What made this one so different? It was kill or be killed in those situations. The peggie at John’s ranch though...he didn’t even have a chance to really fight back. He was all but defenseless in Chance’s eyes. 

Chance walked into the silent wood house,  _ Since when did I become so fine with killing people?  _ Chance thought to himself as he put the leftovers Kim gave him in the fridge. Chance wasn’t a killer was he? “No,” he said to the empty room, “Jacob, Joseph, and Drama King are killers. I’m nothing like them. I’m not a killer like  _ they _ are.” Chance was just tired, he was sure he just made up the worst case scenario. That cultist  _ had  _ to be fine. Chance shook the thoughts out of his head best he could while he got ready to wash away the day. He just needed to sleep, to start over with tomorrow. As Chance laid himself facedown on the bed the voices creeped back into his mind. The doubt made it hard to sleep as he tossed and turned until dawn, and only when the sun was fully up that Chance was able to fall asleep. 

  
  


_ September 1st, 2003 _

_ Nicholas actually came to Bozeman, didn’t think he had it in him. Or that he would take up the offer so soon. He still struck out, said it was because the girls there were all too stuck up. When I asked him why he thought that he responded “I gave my best jokes and not one of ‘em laughed at a single one!” That was false though. There was a woman who laughed, too bad she was leaving the bar with her friend. I didn’t get a good look at her but I caught her name, Kimiko. Not enough to go off of though so I didn’t tell him. Who knows maybe one day their paths will cross again. I hope so, because she laughed at his worst joke of the night. _


	5. Are you Stupid?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place days after the attempted arrest of Joseph.

“Ancient men were killers. They were tenacious. They were strong. Now what are we? Passive. Lazy.  _ Weak _ ,” Chance snorted hearing the sound of the biggest brother of the Seed family preach with his wispy, gritty voice. Chance was squatted in some bushes, Physocarpus malvaceus or mallow ninebark he was pretty sure, watching the operation outside of the armory bunker between his cover’s red brown leaves. Chance had been studying this spot for the last two days trying to work out how the place worked, more than enough time to gather what he needed, though one could never be too sure. He figured that the more he knew the quicker he would be able to take this bunker, and hopefully the whole Seed family, down. Today, though, was the day he would finally find the opportunity to enact his plan. Simple and fast; get in, place as many explosives as he could, get out, and watch the show. 

“Culture and technology hasn't improved us, it has brought us to our knees!” Chance stifled his laughter at the words being spouted in the recording, “If our ancestors could see us now, they would be ashamed. They would be sickened and they would be angry. We have forgotten where we came from. We have forgotten who we are.”

Chance rolled his eyes bringing up his binoculars in an attempt to make out details on the door, “Just because you couldn’t figure out a flip phone doesn’t mean technology is evil, old man,” Chance whispered to himself, chuckling. The door was big, metal, and appearing to need a key card to get in, impenetrable.  _ It just needs one big explosive, that should get the job done I’m sure. _

Chance swept the area once more confirming his game plan to get through step one. He repeated the steps mentally, checking his bag loaded with all the explosives he found over the last few days. He just had to sneak past the guards, place a few remote explosives, and then use the rest of the explosives to get the party going. Once this place was out of commission taking down the rest of Eden’s Gate would be a piece of cake.  _ What about Pratt?,  _ Chance paused looking past the bag, _ What if he’s in there? _ , his conscience prodded. 

He shook his head, a fair point but if this plan went as it should then Chance would be down in the bunker enough time to look for him. Besides who would be stupid enough to put prisoners with a bunch of weapons. What if Pratt got out by some miracle? Then he’d have full access to weapons and have the ability to pull a Rambo. Chance rolled his eyes at the thought. He had to save him now, to at the very least prevent Pratt from having a story like that to tell at the bars when this was all over.  _ Pratt’s going to be fine. There’s nothing to worry about. _

Chance took a deep breath making his way out of the bush as quietly as possible. He kept his eyes on the guards moving in front of him. They were close to being only a thousand feet from him. Chance’s heart started to race as his eyes moved around for an exit, he just had to stick to the plan. Just make an arc around the area and then-.  _ Snap. _

Chance froze, his heart beating rapidly, mouth going dry. The soft click of a gun just behind Chance had him putting his hands up, closing his eyes tightly.  _ Well there goes that plan. _ “Now keep low,” Chance nodded slowly at the instructions given to him, his chest burning from the breath he held in, “turn around slowly and walk back to the road,” the voice was young and male, even with the lack of gruffness that seemed too common among the men here.  _ Except Pretty Boy, but he doesn’t count as much of a man. _

Chance squinted his eyes open as he turned around hoping to get a look at who was holding a gun to his head. It didn’t work as Chance could hear the mystery man move so he was behind Chance the entire time as he started to face the road. Chance let his breath go and walked, doing as he was told, his legs starting to burn beneath him. “Hey, you grabbed my bag right?” Chance whispered to the guy behind him, “It's kind of important you know.”

Some of the taller plants around him tickled the underside of Chance’s arms, “Oh. No I didn’t. Yeah, just let-,” his tone became light and friendlier before he must have remembered what he was doing, “Hey, you shut up. I figure out what we should have with us, I’m the one with the gun.” There was a hesitancy in his footsteps as Chance continued to walk awkwardly, he was contemplating on going back for the bag or not. Chance heard him walk away quickly managing to return just as fast. The small clink of an enamel keychain against the cheap zipper was the only confirmation that it was his bag. The barrel of the gun tapped Chance’s head, the metal cold, “Hey I didn’t tell you to stop walking.” Chance looked at the ground not realizing he had stopped walking.

Chance started up again, “Thanks for grabbing my bag.” His legs were starting to shake, they were tired, “Can I at least stand at this point? My legs are  _ killing _ me.” 

There was a few seconds of silence from his potential captor, “Yeah I think it should be fine now.” Chance let out a relieved sigh, “But slowly and face the road the entire time.”

“Yes sir,” Chance let out a low groan as he stood. His legs were sore but they no longer screamed at him, for now. From this vantage point he could see that the road was faster approaching now with the use of his full stride. “Are you taking me to Jacob?” There was no response, “Trench Coat?” Still no response came, “Joseph? Maybe Faith? She’s kinda pretty don’t you think?” Chance heard the small sound of someone trying to hold back their laughter, “Are you taking me to  _ any _ of them?” Chance was met with silence once more, too foreboding for his liking. 

_ What is this guy’s plan? _ , Chance couldn’t help but wonder. As the two of them neared the edge of the road Chance could just make out a brown truck hidden within the trees. “Get in the truck,” Chance was ordered. Chance didn’t hesitate to get into the truck, settling himself quickly so that he could finally get a look at the person calling all the shots. They were about Chance’s height, wearing a red ski mask and the black and white camo, same as what was on the guards outside the armory. Chance recounted in his head all the people he had seen, he couldn’t place where this guy could have come from. Seeing how this situation was playing out so far, Chance doubted he was  _ actually _ a part of the people that were trained by Jacob. Chance watched as he saw him place his backpack in the bed of the truck.

Chance flinched at the sound it made, hoping that nothing got dislodged. It’s not like Chance was the most adept at packing explosives. Realizing he had his hands up still, Chance placed them on his thighs shaking out his shoulders and arms. He watched intently as his charge made their way around the truck. They got in slamming the door pointing, what Chance could now see was a simple handgun, “ _ Don’t _ try anything stupid,” he warned, deepening his voice, starting the truck. His head was swiveling as he pulled out of the hiding space. 

It was silent as they made their way down the road putting distance between them and the armoury. Chance started to shift at the amount of silence, trying to prevent the dam of questions from pouring out. Or he just wanted out of this truck. Maybe if he just tucked and rolled he could make it mostly unharmed and-, “What the  _ hell _ were you doing out there, civilian?” Chance flinched at the sudden outburst from the driver, “You could have blown our cover! I mean,  _ my  _ cover.” His voice became more muffled as the ski masked shifted and moved out of place, a small growl of annoyance ended his turn to speak.

Chance looked to him in disbelief, “Are you kidding me? I was  _ trying _ to take down the biggest threat. And I had a  _ really _ solid plan until you showed up. So now it’s ruined,” Chance argued. “Thanks for that.”

The driver nodded towards the bed of the truck an eyebrow raised, “A solid plan?” Chance nodded scoffing, “Blowing the place up?  _ That  _ was your plan?”

Chance crossed his arms giving a small eye roll, “Yeah and it was going to work.”

The captor’s dark eyes went wide, “Are you-,” the mask must have gotten caught in his mouth, laboring his breathing. “Hold on,” he quickly pulled off the ski mask tossing it to the side taking a deep inhale, “Fuck I hate wearing that thing.” Chance was taken aback when he finally came face to face with who took hold of him. Chance had assumed he was young but not  _ teenager  _ young. There was no way this guy could be more than twenty years old. His hair was long, black, and straight even in its current braids. His skin a brown showing some wear from the lack of sunlight he was used to getting if the small sliver of visable tan lines were any indication. His narrowed onyx eyes framed by a furrowed brow were currently staring Chance down, “Back to the point: Are you stupid? Or do you just have a fucking death wish?” 

Chance’s eyes widened as he took offense to this kid’s words, “No.” Chance scoffed at the notion kicking his leg out slightly, “I’m doing the smart thing here. Jacob does all the training, meaning he has access to most of the Project’s weaponry. Taking him out fast and hard is the best thing to do here.” Chance gave him a smug smile.

It was sound logic, no one could argue against it, “You are stupid.” Chance opened his mouth to protest, “I’m not saying you’re wrong, but don’t you think if it was that easy we wouldn’t have done that by now?” Chance’s smile vanished, the kid placed an elbow on the window’s edge rubbing his temple, “Okay I’ll play along, maybe I’m wrong. How long have you been scoping out that bunker?”

“Long enough,” he retorted, suddenly feeling a little self conscious of his answers.

“So less than a week,” Chance stayed silent seeing the frustration grow on his driver’s face. “You really didn’t think this through,” the young man stated. He let out a long sigh, “Did you at least see any confirmation that the weapons were being taken there?” Chance tried to look back on the last two days, his response time must have been too long, “So I’m gonna take that as a no. What about Deputy Pratt? What if he was in there and you decided to blow up the place? Or all the other innocents down there, were you really going to just let them die?”

Chance flinched at the detail he had managed to overlook, turning his eyes away from the know it all. “Hey I would have figured it out,” Chance yelled, “I’m good at improvising. Thinking on the fly.”

“Improvising,” he let his eyes leave the road to look at Chance with an open mouth shaking his head, “Wow. You’re not stupid. You’re stupid stupid.” All this guy seemed to be doing was make Chance feel worse, which meant that he was telling the truth. “You can’t just improvise with  _ Jacob Seed _ . That man has everything thought of. Even the best laid plans we’ve had have failed. Look you’re better off waiting on the fabled Deputy to help save us all from this.”

“Fabled Deputy?” Chance looked at him curious.  _ Did my name seriously get around that fast? _

“Yeah,” he smiled looking at the road in awe, “There was this deputy that got away after the arrest. Seems the Seeds got a vendetta for him,”  _ That was a bit of an understatement, _ “I heard this guy took out like twenty guys on his own with his  _ bare  _ hands.”  _ Well that was an exaggeration,  _ Chance hadn’t even seen that many members in the four days since the arrest, waking in Dutch’s bunker. “Eli says we can’t rely on one man to take them down though, but he’s gonna be a great help with his skills and knowledge.”

Chance swallowed nodding along to what the kid had to say, tuning out the rest of his repeated tall tales. If these were the stories they got up here in the middle of the mountains then the rest of the county was going to be severely disappointed in who their hero actually was. A twenty-five year old ex-alcoholic that liked to dance the line of death, despite being terrified of coming back to a place he never wanted to see again, with the muscle mass and combat expertise of a child. Some hero he was. 

“Tell me what you’ve heard about him,” his driver wondered, “You had to have heard  _ something _ .”

Chance cleared his throat, “I heard he fails to live up to the hype.” Chance rubbed his clamming palms against his jeans, “He’s just some guy that everyone chose to be their martyr. All so they could finally be brave enough to take these leaders out themselves.”

Chance was given a sideways glance, “And I thought Tammy was cynical? You might have her beat.” Chance didn’t want to ruin the kid’s fantasy, but maybe if he knew who Chance was he could take him to Eli. Chance opened his mouth to speak before the local started talking, “I’d take you to Eli but he’s not the biggest fan of outsiders.”  _ Well looks like I’m zero to two today, _ “Though I can tell him about you and maybe he can give you a test.”

Chance’s eyes went wide, “You have to pass a test in order to even have a chance of meeting him?” Chance shook his head,  _ This is proving to be harder than I thought _ .

“Well you can never be too careful up here,” his voice became hallow and far away, “Another reason why it’s stupid to go after Jacob is because he’s got this method with his training, it makes people into sleeper agents.” 

“Sleeper agents? Like what happens in,  _ Return of the Joker _ ?”

“Maybe...Is that movie,” his brow knitted together trying to piece it together.

Chance waved him off, “Doesn’t matter too much. But in it the Joker puts a chip in one of the Robins to take over his body at a later date,” Chance explained.

“Huh,” the young man thought for a second, “I know Jacob’s smart but I don’t think he’d be using that kind of technology.” His voice trailed off before lighting up again, “Hey! Maybe that’s what you can do! You can try and figure out how he’s doing it!”

That sounded like an easy enough thing to Chance. He just had to either infiltrate into the ranks or spend days watching some place trying to figure it out. “You think Eli would meet me if I did that?”

The driver opened his mouth before closing it hearing the static of the radio come on, “Wheat- Wheaty, come in,” the voice was deep, definitely an older man. Chance looked to his driver and to the radio,  _ Wheaty, unique name. _

He grabbed the receiver, “Go for Wheaty.”

“Just got a description of the Deputy,” Chance’s eyes went wide, “Need you to be on the lookout for him.” Wheaty nodded waiting for the voice to make its way through the static, “The guy’s young with a mess of curly brown hair. Green eyes,” Wheaty paused his nodding quickly glancing at Chance. 

“Sounds pretty generic to me Eli,” he said into the radio, his eyes starting to narrow as he watched Chance in his peripheral.

“Well apparently this guy also has tattoos on his hands,” Chance quickly crossed his arms hiding his hands under his armpits. “Chemical formula stuff. Though no one knows of what or can even remember what they are. Unique enough detail for you?”

Wheaty turned to face the now shy deputy, “Yeah that’s unique alright. What do you want me to do with him if I see him?”

“Bring him here, sooner we get him here the better. Less chance that Jacob’s gotten to him,” Eli instructed as Wheaty hit his hand on the steering wheel, letting out a small curse. “Got that, kid?”

He let out a sigh, “Loud and clear. I’ll let you know if I see anything.” Wheaty pulled the truck over, placing the receiver back in it’s holder. He took a breath as Chance shied away from him, ready to jump out of the truck if needed.  _ This isn’t going to be good, _ “Are you fucking kidding me?!  _ You’re  _ the deputy everyone’s been talking about? The one that’s supposed to be some big hero?”

“Tales of my escapades  _ may _ have been a bit exaggerated,” Chance said softly, giving him an embarrassed smile, shrugging.

He groaned, “You’re telling me,” Wheaty threw his head back on the seat letting out a long breath, “I’m a little disappointed don’t get me wrong, but now we’re at an impasse.”

Chance tilted his head, “What do you mean? You heard him, you have to take me to him right away.”

“Yeah, but not like this,” Wheaty faced him, hands clasped pointing to Chance, “Look I’m sure you’re capable and will be our famed hero,” his arms moved as if he was showing off some muscle before they fell back to his side slowly, “just, not now. Look how easily I found you? You were ready to blow up a bunker that didn’t even have the weapons in them.” Chance looked down to the stitching of the seat, his plan was a failure from the start. He really didn’t have a clue of what he was doing, what he got thrown into. Chance ran his nail along the thread, “You were going to get yourself killed and we can’t have that.” He shook his head, “If I was Eli I’d send you back out to the Valley or to the Hebane. Give you some time to get your bearings. Have you walk a bit more before you start flying. It’s what he had me do before I became a full fledged member of the Wolves Den.”

Chance shrugged, biting his inner lip, “Eli made it sound like too big a risk if I was left out here too long,” Chance argued, “Just- Just let him meet me and then he can decide what he wants to do with me.” His voice was on the precipice of begging, which annoyed Chance. He just wanted to do the right thing and do it right. Show that maybe, just maybe he wasn’t such a disappointment after all.

Wheaty shook his head, “No.” Chance looked him in the eye, “I am aware of how big a risk I’m taking right now, but you’re just not ready.” Chance glared at him, placing his hand on the handle of the door, “And trust me that’s not a bad thing Dep.  _ None _ of us were ready for this. You’re far from alone in that department. We just have to be smart about this and if I’ve learned anything from Eli, the smart thing to do here is to have you in the Valley with John. He’s not dumb by any means but he’s the least bright of the brothers.” Chance let out a sigh, “Heard he’s also a  _ little _ more unstable since you rolled in.”

“You think I’ll be able to take him down?” Chance asked not getting his hopes up too high.

“Yeah,” Wheaty nodded, “I know you can.” Wheaty placed a reassuring hand on Chance’s shoulder, “And don’t worry I’ll be a radio call away! I’ll try and help you out the best I can up here,  _ along _ with trying to make it down there every now and then.” He held up a hand for a high five smiling, “You can do this. Just get a little more comfortable with the whole situation and how you want to handle it. Then,” he pointed between the two of them, “you and me, we’ll take down that Jarhead of a brother. What do ya say?”

If Chance was being lectured by someone younger than himself, it was obvious he really hadn't been ready to take down Jacob, just yet. Chance ran a hand down his face before slapping his hand against Wheaty’s, “I say you’re right.” The two brought their clasped hands down for a proper handshake, “Call me Chance by the way. Don’t like being called Deputy.”

Wheaty smiled, “Got yourself a deal Chance. Now come on let’s get you down these mountains.” Wheaty pulled a U-turn south turning the radio to his own personal station. It wasn’t long before both young men were air guitaring to the riffs and lamenting on what defined rock music. Which band was better, who was more over played, or how each area has a certain era of rock that dominates what gets played. It was fun and normal, like they had always been friends. For the near two hour ride it took to get to the outskirts of Fall’s End Chance felt like himself again. Chance was wishing that the ride would last longer, but like all good things in Chance’s life, it had to come to an end. Chance pulled his bag out of the truck bed looking at Wheaty one last time, “Seriously, you need anything Chance, and I mean  _ anything _ you give me a call.”

Chance gave him a smirk, “Same to you. Thanks Wheaty.” Chance rubbed the back of his neck, “You know you might have saved my life back there,” he admitted.

“Hey,” he put the truck in drive, “Now you just owe me.” He gave a laugh waving to his new friend, “Till next time!”

Chance waved back as the truck disappeared back to the mountains, “Till next time,” he whispered before turning in a circle looking for the path he had to take.


	6. I'm Not A Savior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr Prompt that turned into a chapter. This happens farther into Chance's story and closer to the middle.

“I say we come in from the south side after making a blast from the north, you know as a distraction,” Sharky suggested a smile on his face. 

“Pretty sure you just want an excuse to blow something up don’t you?” Kim asked her face tired as she looked up from the map, “Besides that wouldn’t work. There’s too many Bliss containers everywhere, it could make things worse in the long run and get more people hurt.”

“Well that’s your opinion,” Sharky said crossing his arms, “Let’s get another one,” his eyes landed onto Chance sitting in a chair, black boots propped on the desk of the old jail, fingers laced behind his head as he looked up to the ceiling. “Chance whatcha you think? You’re running this whole operation here.”

Chance’s green eyes moved down to Sharky slowly, he had gotten to sixty five tiles on the ceiling that had water damage, giving a shrug, “If Kim thinks it’s a bad idea it probably is. We aren’t here to make any unnecessary casualties.” Chance looked back up to the ceiling and let out a sigh, this meeting was taking too long and he just wanted to go back home. He managed to find a small liquor stash from a store meaning he had  _ some _ of the good stuff waiting for him. Thinking about it he should have drank a little more to make it through this meeting, maybe then he could muster the enthusiasm they wanted from him. 

“Chance,” Kim said watching him, “you know it would be nice for you to have a little bit more of an opinion on these matters. It is you that executes the plans.”

Chance brought his boots down to the floor, the thump echoing against the concrete walls. He spun in the chair back and forth in a half circle, his eyes fixed on Kim, “Well it's not like I have anything better to offer. Everyone knows their strengths and knows what mine are, so I just follow whatever you tell me.” He stopped moving, catching the mom look in Kim’s eyes, her arms crossing,  _ Guess we know who  _ really  _ wears the pants in this relationship _ , “What? That’s our system. If it ain’t broke don’t fix it.”

“Chance this is your life on the line here, you know that right?” She pursed her lips as Chance nodded, her eyebrow cocking, “And that there are people relying on you?” Kim asked, watching as he just shrugged, she scoffed, “We need you alive.”

“You needed me to rally people together and that’s what I did,” Chance responded standing from the chair, “You do know that you can always send someone else in to do the hard work right? There’s more people here that want to “help” save their home.” He rolled his eyes, the weight of the flask in his back pocket turning to lead stopping himself from reaching for it. “Ask one of them to go in, why not Jess? Or Grace? They’re both stealthy enough to make it in and get the job done.”

“You know Jess got stuff to do up in the mountains with Eli,” Sharky said, his brow furrowing together, “She can’t make it down here. ‘Nd Grace well she’s still running point on John with Nick. You’re the only one able to make this neck of the woods priority.”

Chance scoffed, “Right, that’s  _ always  _ the case with you all.” He shook his head, rubbing his temples, “Look you guys come up with some plan and I’ll follow orders okay. If you want to give me some help that would be preferable, for now I’m gonna step outside, get something to eat and some fresh air.” He walked out the room quickly making his way to the back of the jail leaning against the wall of it, letting out a slow breath, closing his eyes as the sun warmed his face. He pulled out the flask ignoring the shaking in his hands, god when was the last time that he ate? Not like he could remember really but it had to be yesterday, he was pretty sure, everything was becoming a haze again.  _ A haze,  _ he thought, bringing the flask to his lips,  _ just like last time, back when life was simpler _ . 

He just wanted to leave, they all were going to tell him what to do anyway. All he had to do was show up on time, do as they said, and then act like some hero when they gained a little more ground in this war. Clock in, clock out, just like being a deputy. Done it many times over, now though, the last few missions….it all felt different. Different because what if  _ she  _ was there. Chance didn’t ever want to see her again, it shouldn’t matter so much to worry about something like that, but he did worry. He’d seen her face everywhere in the weeks since their last encounter, from the pictures, the billboards, and the hallucinations that never seemed to leave him now. His eyes strayed to his left, catching sight of that light brown hair of hers dressed in that white dress, the purple converse on her feet this time, other days she was wearing his old leather jacket. His heart raced seeing her stand there, smile on her face, hand outstretched to him. How it pulled in his chest to run to her, pull her lips to his, hold her close, be back in his bedroom where nothing else existed just the two of them. That feeling….that’s what made this different. 

He’d hesitate.

Even with his heart still in pieces since they last spoke to each other, he couldn’t bring himself to hate her, let alone harm her. Sure, he could just shoot her in a place where she could heal easily, that wouldn’t make it better for him though. God forbid someone else take that choice away from him, these people wouldn’t hesitate in harming her….killing her. He couldn’t stand to lose another person, not someone that he loved. Especially the way he loved her. He shouldn’t love her, he’d broken up with her right? It had to be….she never even gave him a radio call on either frequency they used. It had only been two weeks, but that wasn’t stopping Chance from feeling like it was longer than that. At least the days were starting to blur again. That was a good sign, he was one step closer to being able to get a grip on his life again.

Chance had finished half the flask feeling himself to be more calm and steadier, the vision of Faith gone from him, making his way back inside the building. He pulled out a half filled bag of Funyuns from his backpack, the better way to hide the scent of the alcohol on his breath in his experience, and considering the still shaking hands he should eat a little something at this point. Walking back into the room, Chance noticed Whitehorse standing with Kim, Sharky having left to some other part of the building, the two talking in hushed voices. Chance took his seat opening the bag, the rustling louder than it normally would have been, leaning back in the chair, his feet back up on the desk. He was far from quiet about his re-entrance, Chance finding it odd that the two didn’t look up, and neither took to looking down at the map.

“I just want you to try and talk to him,” Kim hissed, gesturing to Chance, the hair on his neck prickling, “Please, maybe you can get through to him.”

Chance rolled his eyes, “I’m right here you know!” He swallowed, jaw clenching as their gazes turned to him slowly, “You got something to say about me, might as well say it to my face.”

“Fine,” Kim straightened up, hands on her hips, “You’re not acting like the leader you need to be.”

“Oh how  _ tragic _ ,” Chance said sarcastically, “Time to find some new leader to take over I guess.” He tossed a chip into his mouth, “Why don’t you play leader Kim? You seem to know how to boss people around, I mean just look at Nick.”

“Chance,” Earl warned, “Just listen to her.” Chance narrowed his eyes, Whitehorse pulling off his hat, rubbing the back of his neck, “Look we’re worried about ya, haven’t seemed like yourself recently.”

“Is that what this is about?” Chance laughed, “Not like I’ve really been able to be myself since you agreed to take Joseph into custody.” 

He smoothed his greying hair putting the hat back on, “Now you know if it were up to me we would have gone about this a different way.”

“Oh,” Chance looked at him in disbelief, sitting with his back straight in the chair, “Were you just going to walk away…. _ again _ ?” Chance held the old man’s gaze, Kim looking between the two of them, Whitehorse staying quiet. “That’s what I thought,” Chance said after a while, waving his hand, “So just make this plan so I can go home already.”  _ So I can go and forget about this whole day. _

“We want your opinion on this plan, Chance,” Kim argued, taking a step towards him, “What’s the point in making a plan if you don’t have a say in it? You have to care about it to some extent.”

He laughed, the emptiness of it reverberating, “You want to know why I don’t speak? Because when I have put in opinions, they were shot down in favor of something else. So you tell me why  _ I _ should bother?” Chance looked at her waiting for an answer, stopping her when she started to open her mouth, “Yeah exactly, that’s what I thought. So just stop treating me like some leader and more like another soldier,” Chance leaned back in the chair, “besides it's better if we’re all on equal ground isn’t it?”

“Chance that’s not the point and you know it,” Kim tried again, “You’ve become the face, chosen to lead everyone, so it’s time to grow up and start acting like one.”

Chance stood taking a few steps towards her, “ _ Excuse me _ . I am being an adult by letting you all know that I can’t do this alone.” Chance placed a hand on his chest, leaning down to meet her eyes, “I wasn’t bred to be some leader.”

“No one’s been asking you to do this on your own,” Kim stood straighter, meeting his eyes.

“Oh really? Then why is it that no one else seems to really be taking the reins on some of these plans? Why is it  _ me  _ that has to take down the bigger outposts? That I’m the one getting captured and risking  _ my life  _ so you guys can still have some fabled leader.”

“You’re not fabled, Chance,” Earl said, stepping between the two, “The people of this place have chosen you to rally behind. You represent something they all believe in.”

He reached a hand out to put on Chance’s shoulder, missing as Chance jerked away from him, “I didn’t ask them too! I just saved their asses and when that was done they all dusted their hands deciding that was all that needed to be done, that there was nothing more they could do other than stand on the sidelines hoping that  _ I  _ continue to take care of everything. So don’t give me that bull crap notion that I was chosen!”

“Well whether you like it or not you were,” Kim snapped crossing her arms, “For some reason or another you were chosen.”

“Why?” He threw his hands up jaw clenching, making himself inches from her face, “Because I have nothing to lose? Because I’m the only one here with no family, wife, friends, or any ties to provide a reason as to why I should live if this plan goes to shit? Is that it? A martyr is only as good as their lack of ties compared to those they lead.”

“No one’s saying that Chance,” Whitehorse tried again, placing himself between the two of them, “We- well you need to be taking this a bit more seriously.”

“I need to-,” Chance huffed looking up to Earl, laughing, “Don’t make me laugh old man. Take it seriously,” he snorted, rolling his eyes, pointing to the man he once thought was his mentor, “ _ You  _ should have taken it seriously a year ago. If you had,  _ none of us  _ would be where we are right now.”

“Chance, you know there wasn’t much that could have been done then,” Kim looked between the men brow furrowed.

“There was!” Chance turned to pace, “We both saw her, saw how she pleaded with her eyes for us to help her. Hell! You asked her where she was from and you  _ still  _ chose to accept her bullshit answer.”

“We weren’t there to save her,” Whitehorse shook his head, “My hands were tied.”

“Were they tied when that poster came through the office?” Chance crossed his arms, “Or did you want to blame Nancy for that too?”

“Do you not think that I regret not taking more action back then?” Earl said, his jaw setting, “I know now what could have been done, but there’s nothing we can do about it now. We have to focus on the here and now.”

Chance shook his head, “Nothing is ever your fault,” he snorted turning to grab his coat and bag, “You didn’t take it seriously back then so I don’t see why I should do the same now.”

“Times are different now, Chance,” Kim said, her eyes a little softer than he last looked at them, “We have no choice now. We have to  _ all _ live with the consequences of our inaction.”

_ I didn’t have any inactions,  _ Chance threw his bag and jacket over his shoulder,  _ I actually  _ tried _ to do something. _ “Yeah, you do,” he said cooly, “So let me know when those consequences are done playing out for you all. I’m done.” He started to walk to the door, Kim’s hand gently grabbing onto him, Chance faced her wide eyes, whispering his name. Chance ground his teeth, shaking his head, “No, don’t. Don’t look at me like that,” he wretched his hand from her grip, “I didn’t ask to be the savior in their prophecy.” Chance leaned his face down, inches from hers, “And I certainly didn’t ask to be  _ your  _ savior.” Her nose wrinkled, Chance turning on his heel to the door, slamming it closed behind him.

The two watched him leave, rooted, both swallowing back the urge to go after him right away. Kim turned to face Earl, giving a slow nod, “He’s started to drink again hasn’t he?”

The old man exhaled slowly, “Looks like,” he shook his head, “Give him a little time to cool off, then I’ll go and talk to him. Maybe get him to listen to some sense.”

Kim took a seat at the map, “You sure it should be you going to talk to him?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Earl let out a low groan as he took a seat across from her, “I’ve talked that kid back to sobriety before. I can do it again.”

“It's just-,” Kim paused, she clasped her hands in front of her gathering her thoughts, “He just seemed real upset about whatever you two saw last year.”

“I don’t blame him. Hindsight is always twenty twenty.”

“What happened?”

Earl leaned his elbows on the table, “You remember Mary Seed?”

“I think so,” she pursed her lips, “John’s wife right?”

He nodded, “Yep, that’s the one,” Earl sighed, “We were called out day of their wedding, for a noise complaint. Chance didn’t want to go, hated coming here, but he stood with me as we walked out onto the middle of that dance floor. I didn’t recognize her as a local and there hadn’t been too much talk of people coming from far away to join Eden’s Gate, so I asked her where she was from.”

“Did John or Joseph answer for her?”

“No, she did. Said she was from California, but there was a hesitation to it. As if she started saying the wrong line and trying to correct it halfway through,” Earl looked down to the map, head shaking, “She was real fearful it looked like too, and Chance swears up and down that she seemed to be looking at us with some hope, willing us to see past her appearance. There wasn’t anything I could do though. By all accounts of the law I couldn’t just take her in. So we told them to keep it down and left.” 

Kim nodded sadly, “Then by the time the missing poster came she was already dead and gone,” Kim reached to place her hand over the sheriff’s hand, “There wasn’t anything you could have done.”

“Thing is though,” Earl started up again, “that poster came about a month or two before her death.” Kim leaned back, balking, “I didn’t do much because by then they were getting too strong, there was too much risk. You heard about how much worse John was getting at that time. All the people that went missing, even their own people turning up dead.”

“So you left her  _ there, _ ” Kim wiped at her eyes, “You let her die.”

“Kim,” she sniffed, eyes narrowing, “the arrest warrant wasn’t for murder,” her eyes went wide, “We were arresting Joseph on the suspicion of kidnapping.”

“So….,” Kim looked past Earl, pieces coming together, “She never died. She lived?”

“She’s alive,” he took his glasses off rubbing his eyes, “but she denies anything happened. Denies that she was ever forced to marry. Her friends, the ones that helped get her out, paint a different tale. The hope was that if we got him into custody then….well maybe she would talk. She’d feel safer to do so, make sure that family would be put away for life with their crimes.” He sighed, putting himself back together, “Well you know the rest.” He let out a low breath, “Trust me, Kim, not a day goes by that I don’t wish I could have done something more when I had the chance.”

Kim nodded, “We all had chances to do something and we all chose not too,” their eyes met, “Guess looking back now, Nick and I could have done something, we met her once. She tried to warn us about them taking the plane, but we let our prejudice of them stop from seeing that she really wasn’t one of them.” Her shoulders slumped, “But it’s like you said, there’s nothing we can do to change the past. We just have to focus on fixing the here and now.”

“Done. I’m done with them,” Chance muttered to himself slamming the door, framed pictures shaking, “I don’t need them and they sure as hell don’t need me.” He threw down his bag stalking to the kitchen, twisting the top of the first bottle he laid a hand on, “Take it seriously,” he scoffed, “I’m not some stupid prophecy. Shit like that doesn’t even exist.”

“Doesn’t it though?” Chance paused, eyes locking onto Faith as she stood in the middle of his living room looking the same as before, “So far things are lining up as he said,” she glided around the sofa, fingers trailing along the edge of it.

“What he predicted some no good twenty-five year old to come and try to arrest him,” he rolled his eyes, leaning against the counter, “Real or not real?”

“Ask Benjamin about the veiled park,”  _ Maybe we need to find a new method. I don’t think I tell anymore, _ “Besides,” she shrugged, “does that really matter anymore?” 

He crossed his arms after taking another long drink, “Yeah it does still. For all I know I just let a wild animal into my house. Or someone else that I don’t want to see.”

“Hmm, that is a fair point, but no,” she hopped on the back of the sofa with ease, her ankles crossed as she looked him over with those piercing blue-green eyes, “it’s just little old me.” 

“You said what Joseph predicted was coming true,” he bit the inside of his lip, “How can you know that for sure?”

She tilted her head, laughing delicately, “We just do,”  _ Hallucination, had to be, _ “He said someone would come with old Earl and set off the chain of events you see before you. There would be trials.”

“Like the one Jacob makes?”

“Nope. Trials testing your wits, strengths, and compassion,” she gave him a smile, he just wanted her here with him, “So far you’ve passed them all. Joseph said that now that’s passed you are going to make a choice.”

“I’m not going to join,” Chance grumbled, it was the only choice he was ever given.

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” she taunted, her legs swinging out, “The Father says one day you will come to us and Anticlea will speak to you when you’re at your lowest.”

“Pretty sure I’m already there, so what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

She jumped down making her way toward him, “You’re not at your lowest yet. And I am just a messenger.” 

“My own personal Hermes?” Her eyes widened briefly, Chance shrugging, “I’m no idiot and I listened to you repeat that story again and again when we were kids.”

“Then you know what happens next right?” 

“I’ve yet to face a one eyed man.”

“Don’t sell this place short,” she giggled, Chance’s heart increasing in speed with each slow step towards him, “Nothing said this story had to go in order.”

“You’re implying a hero’s journey, though.”

“Who isn’t on a hero’s journey in life?” Faith taunted.

Chance’s eyes narrowed, “You’re just a trial aren’t you?”

“Do you see me as one?”

“People call you a siren for a reason.”

She smirked, inches from him, “So you do believe yourself to be Odysseus?” 

“If I did I have to survive your song right?” She stayed silent, face unmoving, “Probably already failing that part of the story.”

“I’m irresistible to you?” She gave a slow turn, his eyes unable to leave her. 

“No,”  _ I’m just feeling lonely and heartbroken.  _

Her fingers walked up his chest, his breath hitching, “Hmm. So tell me,” she looked up through her lashes, eyes meeting his, feeling himself start to harden, “Where do you think I stand in this story?” How did it all feel so real, there was no way that she was here, but he could still feel the way her fingertips left marks on his skin. 

“I don’t have to answer you Princess,” he glanced down at the bottle finding it half empty already,  _ When did that happen? _ , “You’re not real and neither is this conversation.”

Her hand reached up, caressing his cheek, Chance stiffened, “You’re right,” her free hand moved under the hem of his shirt, “For all you know you’re in a ditch somewhere bleeding out.” Her hand came out of his shirt dripping red, “Or you’re floating in the river just  _ waiting  _ for death to take hold,” it didn’t even phase Chance when he felt his clothes become wet, hearing the water drip to the ground, as he watched her move. “You have so little care for your life my White Knight,” she leaned up kissing his lips softly, “Does it matter if this is real or not in the end.”

Chance could see the edges of his vision blur, her form the only thing clear, “I’d rather  _ her  _ be here with me,” he whispered softly.

“I’m here with you now,” she pressed herself closer to him, his hands wanting to pull her to him, run along her smooth skin, the bottle now empty,  _ I drank that already? Did I take swigs as we talked? _ , “and according to your body,” she slid a hand over his crotch, Chance letting out a low groan, “it doesn’t matter if I’m real or not.” Chance swallowed, she was right, after that first trip into the bliss he couldn’t ever tell if it was really Faith or not, but that didn’t stop him from sleeping with her anyway. She assured him that most of the times they had sex he wondered about she was with him, especially when they were in public, the others bliss induced dreams. Her lips were soft as they kissed down his neck, “Tell me Chance,” she nipped lightly at his neck, “are you ready to make that descent with me?” 

The last bit of rational thinking was muted as it screamed at him to stop, think this through. He didn’t need to though. He made his choice. He was done being the hero, done with trials and expectations, he didn’t need anyone else. So long as he had himself, he could go back to the way things were. There had to be people here that wanted to just have a good time still, even with the world ending, and he’d find them. All he had to do was reach out and touch her. That’s all. Chance looked down to the filled bottle, it looked to be whiskey this time, before setting it aside on the counter, feeling her fingers run up and down his torso. His hand hesitated as they reached out to her, she felt so real, the lightest touch could have her vanishing from him and he’d be alone again. He felt his fingertips lightly brush along her cheek bone, Faith still present and smiling. The tension in his shoulders melted as he pulled her to him, one hand behind her neck tilting her lips to his, the other on her hip, his lips crashing into hers. 

She moaned, responding to his touch, her hands pulling him towards his bedroom, “You asked me who I thought you were,” Chance whispered against her lips, “You’re Circe, you have to be, all your talk of telling me where to go next and warnings,” he held her against the wall next to his bedroom door, “Even if this story is over, that’s who are, to me Rachel,” he ran a hand up her bare thigh noticing the way she trembled, “Besides, I always did like her more.”

She smiled, “You’re wrong,” her voice echoed as she pushed him down on the bed, straddling him….

“We’re Calypso.”


	7. Finding You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happens after the previous chapter, "I'm Not a Savior".

Faith walked into the trailer, taking it’s dark green carpet and faux dark wood walls, leaving her shoes at the door. Her brothers sat around the singular table, a map to Hope County spread out on top, another hanging on the wall with red string criss crossing it. The latest in their weekly meetings, all to make sure none of them had or would lose control of their sanctioned land. These meetings had always bored Faith, more so since their sister died, as her brothers didn’t seem to listen to her or care what she had to say, the support she once had gone months ago. Besides the only faction of resistance were holed up in the jail, while the rest of the county feared stepping foot in the Hebane, none wanted to risk losing their minds. 

Joseph was in the middle of questioning John about their supplies by the time Faith walked in. “Sister,” Joseph greeted Faith as she took her seat between John and Jacob, “Glad you could join us tonight.”

“Always my pleasure, Joseph,” Faith gave him a warm smile.

“Right, now let’s get started shall we?” Joseph sat facing the map on the wall letting Jacob take the stage.

Jacob grunted as he stood to make his presentation, “Now we need to start focusing efforts more on securing the valley because  _ someone  _ kept letting the Deputy slip through their fingers,” Jacob growled looking pointedly at John, narrowing his eyes in return.

“My people are taking back what’s been lost to us in recent weeks,” John argued.

“Brothers,” Joseph’s calm voice chastised. 

Faith rolled her eyes, scoffing quietly, “I didn’t know you’ve been able to do that,” Jacob responded wearily.

“Yeah,” John leaned back in his chair flippantly, “well no one’s heard from the Deputy in almost a month now.” Faith quickly looked at John and his news, “Even I haven’t heard from him and he typically has a sarcastic remark now and then.”

_ Chance would never allow for that much time between his insults to John,  _ “You’re sure none of resistance has heard from him?” She asked the worry starting to creep in the back of her mind.

“Of course I’m sure. I think they figured Jacob here got to him,” John smirked to his oldest brother. 

“Is this true Jacob,” Joseph interjected.

Jacob rolled his eyes crossing his arms, “You think I would kill him and not tell you? I know you want him alive. And even if I  _ did  _ kill him on accident, Chance would have been used as an example at this point.”

“So he just,” Faith spoke up, “disappeared?” She looked between them all, nods from John and Jacob. She narrowed her eyes, “Well that doesn’t sound like Chance.”

“It’s not like any of us really knew him,” John said through clenched teeth, the anger from the thought that he would never get Mary’s ring back seeping into his words. That is if Chance was  _ actually  _ dead, which Faith doubted. 

“I can try to find out if someone even saw him,” Faith offered, the three brothers looking at her doubtful, “Well he has to eat still and get supplies now n’ again.”

The three looked at each other, a quick silent conversation occurring between them all ending in a shrug, “That would be very helpful my dear if you would,” Joseph finally spoke, assigning her the job.

Faith gave a quick nod, settling herself back into her seat, “Thank you, Joseph.” 

Faith didn’t speak during the rest of the meeting unless spoken to, her thoughts going over all the possibilities as to what could have happened to him. She hadn’t spoken to Chance for almost two months, which was just fine with her. He was the one that started the fight. They had been doing just fine even after she “nearly killed him”, she couldn’t understand why finding out that she figured out their past sooner than him would hurt more and prompt him to leave. She thought he would be happy about it. 

_ “It was done selfishly,”  _ Mary’s voice advised, “ _ You hoped he would join you.” _

She was probably right, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t hurt her also. She waited for him and he left her, then when things got hard, he just left….again. As much as she hurt….she still missed him too. Missed his stupid smile that lit up his green eyes, the laugh that had her heart fluttering, the way he held her as they say on the river banks, and the safety his lips conveyed as they would kiss in his cabin. She just missed him. 

No one hearing from him, and for this long, it made it hard not to worry about him, more so given his past. If he left her hurting the way she thought he was, the temptation to fall on old habits was going to increase. The stress he’d had to endure, the fear, and the feeling of the weight of the world on your shoulders….she’d have gone back to her old habits long ago.  _ Please let me find him dead via battle and not his own hand, _ she prayed as the meeting came to a close.

Faith dismissed her protection the next night, sending them off to places she knew he wouldn’t be, needing to be alone for where she was going to start her search. She changed into some jeans and a dark red shirt putting on the black leather jacket and purple converse Chance had given her the day she put their past together. Driving the inconspicuous sedan she made her way to Chance’s house, the way committed to her body’s memory. The two of them had started to meet twice a week, sometimes more if they could find the time, before she brought him into The Bliss and he spoke to the Father. 

She missed those days where they would sit and talk, sometimes going to fish just behind the house at the river, or the few times she stayed the night and she thought he was going to kiss her but never did. How she had to take charge and kiss him first under that bridge, after that when she spent the night he was always attentive to her. Even after adding sex to their relationship it never felt like the only thing between them, they still enjoyed the other’s company talking, laughing, and contemplating the unanswered questions of life. It was those times that they spent together that brought her back to when they were kids and would explore in the woods by her house as their fathers talked about who knows what. All back when Rachel was still hopeful about some white knight saving her from her life with her parents. Back then she hoped that it would be Chance. Oh what a stupid girl she was. 

Chance didn’t even know who she was for the longest time. Not that she could blame him, it was over ten years since they last saw each other. She didn’t even recognize him seeing him in that church as he put the cuffs on Joseph. It was only seeing the picture on the mantle that she figured out it was the boy that made the world a little brighter when he was near her. The boy who abandoned her when she needed him most.

The same boy who had come back to her.

To Rachel.

Faith killed the headlights as she pulled up to the darkened house. It looked to be abandoned as she got out of the car, rubbing warmth to her cold hands. Faith took a deep breath as she walked slowly up to the door, not bothering to knock as she pushed against it. There was no resistance as it swung open easily, her heart starting to race,  _ That’s not a good sign. _ The floor creaked as she stepped inside, the smell of stale whiskey hitting her nose, just like some of the memories she worked to push back. The darkened room was lit by the small singular table lamp, a dark shirt muting the brightness of it. She closed the door behind her, walking to pull the cloth off illuminating the house, her feet kicking a few glass bottles, their rolling sound giving a small jump to her heart. 

“Chance?” She called out looking for any sign of him, “Chance are you here?” Faith took in the living room her eyes having adjusted to the light. Bottles of various sizes and shapes littered the floor, a few boxes of pizza were stacked on the coffee and dining room tables, empty cans of soup on the kitchen counters. Faith looked over the cans, her nose wrinkling as some of them had a more potent smell than the others, he hadn’t cleaned in a long while or at least thought too. “Oh Chance,” Faith whispered, “What happened?” She looked to the stairs leading up to what was now Chance’s lab, a few bottles leading the way. Faith frowned following the trail, her footsteps echoing in the stairway. 

The lab was less of a mess than the downstairs, her eyes sweeping the space stopping once they took in the twin sized bed against the wall. Faith’s eyes went wide seeing the mop of brown curly hair against the pillow, dark rings under closed eyes on a pale face. His red Misfits shirt, black jeans, and the lack of footwear stained with varying shades of brown, he’d been walking in the mud outside. Or falling was the better word as she took notice of the scrapes on his exposed arms, all in various stages of healing, as he held a near finished bottle. Another on the floor, half full, labeled as Smirnoff, while the one he held was Jack Daniels. 

The one thing Faith couldn’t see any signs of was breathing, at least from where she stood. Eyes filling with tears, she rushed to his side, “Chance,” she shook him, her heart rapid in its pace, “Chance, can you hear me?” Desperate Faith recited prayers in her mind as she brought her ear to his chest, her panic making it hard to discern between his heartbeat and hers. “Wake up! Chance I need you to wake up! For me, please,” her cries having become desperate as she shook him more, starting to pound at his chest.  _ Please don’t have gone like this. Not all alone, _ Faith thought as she went back to listening to his chest, finally able to focus on more than the worry building in her body. There was a sigh of relief finally making out his slow, but steady, heartbeat. 

He was alive. 

She just needed him to wake up now. The tears fell, without her permission, as she shook him harder, lightly hitting his face all while calling his name. There was no response and Faith started to wonder if he needed medical attention.  _ Real  _ medical attention, not just bringing him to Lance like she’d done in the past. It was a scary thought, bringing him to a doctor that belonged to people that wanted her dead, she’d be risking everything if it was serious there may not be much time to get a hold of Lance to take him. How could she do any less? Chance did as much for her months ago, the day she finally realized who he was, that he was the White Knight she dreamed about as a young Rachel. More than that, she loved him. She loved him and would risk her life for him because she did. 

Faith was readying herself to start dragging Chance down the stairs when he finally let out a groan trying to swat her away. “Chance!” Faith grabbed his face looking into his green eyes as they opened slowly to her blue green ones. “Oh Chance,” she hugged him close to her crying into his shoulder, “I was so worried about you.”

Chance stiffened pulling away from her, his eyes searching her face, the recognition dawning on him. “Beautiful,” he slurred his hand reaching for her face, breath heavy with the scent of whiskey, “What are you doing here?”

Faith wiped her face clean, “I came looking for you, dummy,” she gave a half hearted chuckle, her frown returning quickly, “What happened Chance?” 

Chance shook his head as he sat up, arms resting on his knees, “Nothin’,” he looked down at the bottle that he held, smiling he drank the rest of the bottle empty. “Jus’ having a little fun,” Chance’s words mumbled, strung together by the faintest sense of clarity.

Faith looked at him sympathetic and brow furrowing, “Chance...this is more than a little fun.” He shrugged, grabbing the bottle on the floor standing up, swaying before catching himself on the railing to the lower part of the cabin. Faith stood following him, “Chance please. This isn’t you,” Faith kept a step ahead of him as they went down the stairs.

Chance waved her off, “Are you kidding me? I never felt more like me in such a long time.” He took a drink of the vodka offering the bottle to Faith, when she didn’t reach for it he shrugged, rolling his eyes drinking more of it. 

“Well everyone’s worried about you,” Faith explained, “You’ve been MIA for almost a month.”

Chance turned to her nostrils flaring, Faith taking a quick step back, “Don’t start taking that tone with me. Everyone can just fuck off!”

Faith glared at him, “Even the people that care about you?”

“Yes,” he took a long drink, “You know no one  _ really _ cares about others. If they do they just want something from you.” He pointed the neck of the bottle at her, “A little life advice for you,” Chance stumbled making his way to the kitchen, his mood changing his smile over taking his features, “I’m starving. Are you hungry?”

Faith shook her head sadly, “Chance,” her voice soft putting a hand on his shoulder, “what happened?”

Chance pushed her hand off him, grumbling, “I came back that’s what happened.”

Faith ground her teeth hearing his piss poor answer, it’d be his last as she forced him to face her, “Chance! What. Happened,” she demanded.

His eyes darkened looking down at her, “You want to know what happened? I broke! There, you happy now with that answer?” Chance leaned down eyes level with hers, “I can’t do this shit anymore. I’m  _ done  _ being some symbol, savior, whatever the fuck they call me.” He shoved past her kicking some of the bottles on the floor out of his way, “They want me to be their everything and I never wanted it! They don’t even help! They just expect me to do everything! I got tired of it so I left!” Chance took another sip, wiping away at his mouth when he was done, “They want their home back so damn bad they can do it themselves.”

“So that’s it? Life got hard and you just gave up?” Faith followed him as he drank until there was nothing more than a quarter of the bottle left, “Just decided to go back to your old habits?”

He laughed, cold and empty as it echoed in the house. “That’s so fucking rich coming from you,” he sneered, “Little miss ex addict that followed a man who lured her into doing his bidding with a better high, promising you a chance to stay in your own little world where you ended up staying.” 

Faith’s jaw clenched, blood starting to boil, grabbing the bottle from him throwing it against the wall, “I know that! But you got out of your own little world! You told yourself you wouldn’t go back to it! Sorry I want to make sure that at least one of us gets out and stays out!”

“Yeah well reality sucks and I don’t want any part of it,” his eyes strayed to the shattered glass, “So it really doesn’t seem fair that you get to stay happy while I don’t get that option. Did you ever think about that?” The subtle crack in his voice had Faith relaxing her body just the slightest, “That maybe,  _ just maybe,  _ I want to stay happy.” 

“Chance,” she consoled softly.

“I can’t be happy in a place where I’m placed on a pedestal that I can never keep my balance on,” Chance’s tears started to escape silently, the anger leaving his voice. Faith touched him gently guiding him to the sofa to sit, “A place where my hands-,” he held them up, eyes getting a far away look, “Where my hands are stained red constantly, no amount of scrubbing letting the color go.” Faith stroked his hair, heart falling, “And  _ still  _ they expect me to keep going.” Chance had started to rock himself back and forth, body shaking, “I never even got the chance to stop and think about what I was doing. What I was signing up for.” 

She wrapped her arms around him, “I know. I’m sorry,” she whispered in his hair as he continued.

“I didn’t want this, Faith.  _ I never wanted this _ . God I never wanted this,” his rocking stopped, the shaking of his sobs taking over, “Why did I ever agree to this? Why would they make me their leader? Why would they make  _ us  _ leaders? I’m only 25 and you’re only 24.” Chance laughed bewildered, Faith wiping away at some of the tears, “We’re just  _ kids _ Faith. I-. Fuck! I just want to go  _ home _ . Be away from all of this.” 

“Shhh,” Faith felt his arms wrap around her as she stroked his hair. “You’ll be home soon,” Faith kissed his head, unsure of what she was saying was of any comfort to him. She couldn’t promise him that, there might not even be a home he could go to when the end came, whatever end that may be.

“Faith…,” Chance cried into her chest.

“Yes Chance.”

“I’m scared. I’m  _ so scared _ .” He’d admitted a lot to her in their time together but never that he was scared….never that he was scared. “I’m so scared about what will happen to me every time I step outside that door. How much of who I am will be taken from me each day.” He pulled away to get a better look at her face, “I don’t want to lose who I am,” his green eyes were ringed with red as he looked up to her face, “I’m so scared of losing me. I don’t feel like me,” Chance sobbed. Faith wiped away the tears from his eyes, “I just feel so scared and  _ alone.”  _ Faith inhaled sharply, “I just don’t want to feel like dying anymore.”

Faith pulled him in close to her, hugging him tightly as he cried. “You’re not alone. I’m here. I’ll always be here for you,” she repeated to him like a prayer kissing the top of his head, her own tears falling silently. They were so alike in many ways but never once did she ever think he would admit to such feelings to anyone. He was Chance, outgoing and happy despite the loss and sadness it entailed, not the Chance admitting that he silently begged for death. It was the last thing she’d ever want for him.

As his sobs subsided Faith got him standing and moving to his bed, where she undressed him taking in all the scars he was getting from being in this Holy War neither asked for. Faith looked at the clock as she laid him down, placing a trash can near his head should he need it, there was time before she had to be back to avoid raising suspicion. His eyes closed quickly, gently tucking him into the bed, leaving him for the main part of the house.

She picked up some of the bottles, stopping to clean up the shattered bottle from their fight, gathering the pizza slices that looked recent and safe to eat, placing them in the fridge, and finally throwing out the empty cans of soup. It wasn’t much, the house needing more to get it back to a decent state, but it was something to help him out for now. 

Faith wasn’t sure what to do now that she’d found him. He was in a bad state and she doubted he would even remember this come tomorrow when he woke. The most she could do now was just check up on him every night, come up with some story to tell him when he confronted her about her being there again, and hope that she wouldn’t come one night to find him dead. 

Faith went to the bathroom grabbing the pain pills and a glass of water placing it on his nightstand. She smoothed out his hair, her heart longing to curl up next to him. She started to contemplate what would happen if she stayed when his slurred voice asked, “Will you stay with me?”

Faith frowned, in the end it was too much of a risk for her to stay with him like this, she pushed the hair covering his eyes out of the way, “I wish I could but-.”

He nodded slowly, “You have your pedestal to keep balanced on.” Chance reached out to her bringing his face close to hers, “I think I love you, Faith,” he leaned in to kiss her, Faith stopping him.

Another thing he’d never admitted to her and oh how she wanted it to be true. She swallowed, “Tell me when you’re sober, Chance,” her voice a whisper to hide the break, “Maybe then I’ll believe you.” Faith tried to muster a smile, failing as Chance’s eyes closed. 

He nodded lying back down, “I do mean it though,” Chance turned to his side, nestling into the blankets, “I think I’ve loved you since you were Rachel still.”

She swallowed the lump starting to form in her throat standing up, “Good night my White Knight. I’ll check on you tomorrow,” she promised as she shut the lights off. Taking one more look around the house she sighed, there were to be some tough decisions she’d have to make on his behalf.  _ “Sometimes you have to for those that you love,” _ Mary’s voice chimed in once more as Faith started the drive back to her house,  _ “And you love him, Faith.” _

Chance woke to bright afternoon sun filtering in through the cracks of the dark curtains, at least he assumed it was afternoon, either way it pained his eyes. He rubbed them, groaning, head pounding. He looked at the clock on his nightstand slowly, confirming it was the afternoon. “Fuck,” he muttered as he sat up, “late start today Chance.” Out of the corner of his eye Chance saw the bottle of pain pills and a glass of water, “At least drunk me was nice this time.” Chance poured six pills in his hand swallowing them all at once with the water. Memories of the night before coming back to Chance hazily; Faith coming and finding him, the two of them yelling at the other, and then her….tucking him into bed? Chance shook the thoughts out of his head, they weren’t memories….just a dream. It had to be. No one was coming to look for him, especially Faith, she was the last person that wanted to see him. 

Chance walked around the house searching for a bottle with any amount of liquor in it taking notice of the cleanliness of the house.  _ I was  _ really _ nice to myself last night, _ Chance thought as he went through his cupboards finding just enough liquor to get his headache under control. Chance sighed looking at the half glass of a mixed concoction of various liquors, “And I guess that’s why.” He drank the whole thing in one sitting before putting on his sunglasses, “Guess I better get some more.”

Chance had raided all the places closest to him for their alcohol so it was time to risk facing the residents again and go to the gas station close by. Chance put a hoodie on as he exited his truck, hoping to hide his face. The place looked empty but one could never be too sure in these times. The ding of the bell echoed as he opened the door, eyes trying to land on anything that looked like movement. There wasn’t anyone else Chance could see, not that he started to care much making a beeline for the liquor aisle. It was still stocked surprisingly, no one having come to claim back this business.

Chance grabbed an empty crate, fitting in three bottles of vodka, three of whisky, and two boxes of the strongest red wine. He lifted the crate, needing out of the building feeling his eyes heavy, the fluorescents stinging his eyes. Chance stopped hearing someone clear their throat behind the counter,  _ Guess there was someone that reclaimed their business, _ “I need to see your ID,” the attendant said lazily, “and some payment would be nice.”

Chance looked up to him annoyed, “Seriously? You need to see my ID?”

The attendant shrugged, “Federal law still.” 

“Who the fuck is going to arrest you with Eden’s Gate here? There’s no police department anymore.”

The attendant stared at him, hand outstretched for the card. Chance let out an exasperated breath setting the crate down rougher than he should have, reaching for his wallet. “I’m uh,” the attendant started pointing to their head, “I’m also going to need you to at least put your hood down sir.” 

Chance rolled his eyes pushing the hood back, “There.” Chance grumbled to himself trying to pull out his ID with shaky hands. He growled when it fell to the floor, the chime of the bell filling the store with it’s sound, “Fuck,” he said under his breath as he bent down to pick it up. 

Chance ignored the sound of footsteps nearing him as he stood back up finally pulling the ID out handing it to the attendant. The sudden change in position had Chance feeling like he was going to be sick, he needed to get back home. He rubbed the back of his neck, letting the air cool his neck as he exposed it, pushing his hair out of the way. There was an audible gasp behind him, freezing him in place. “Chance,” A woman’s voice asked in a single breath, “Is that really you?”

“Who wants to know,” he responded, annoyance propelling him as he turned around to face the voice. The woman he faced looked to be in her forties, with brown hair streaked with some grey, and eyes a jade green. Her clothes, with their stylized black cross printed on them, indicated she was just another peggie,  _ Great. I’m gonna get gunned down in a fucking gas station.  _ The longer Chance looked at her the more he couldn’t shake the feeling that he should know her somehow. She felt….familiar. Chance took off his sunglasses getting a better look at her.

Her eyes went wide, filling with tears as recognition and relief flooded her features, hand covering her mouth, “Oh Chance!  _ It is you _ .” She reached out to hug him smiling, Chance pushing her back. Her face fell, offended, the smile turning to a frown, “Don’t you know who I am?” Chance shook his head leaning away from her. She gave him a small smile, a tear falling down her cheek, hand placed on her chest, “Chance it’s me. Your mother. I’m your mom, Chance.”


	8. First Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This gets a little nsfw towards the end so please do be warned.   
> Takes place about two months post arrest

There are small blessings in having a hard to get to prepper stash, one of which being that you get to jump into the cold waters of the Hebane on a hot summer day. Chance never did dives very often and his form was off causing more of a flop, the stinging it caused staying along his chest as he swam up river from the Bridge of Tears. It never was very safe to stay in the water for very long, not with the canniesters of Bliss tossed in with little regard to the effects on the wildlife. Chance heaved himself onto the shore hearing the barks of Boomer, pulling the bag he dragged from the water, it’s weight feeling more than he initially thought. He was tired and took to lying on his back patting the furry companion. 

“You know, thinking about it,” Chance mused as he closed his eyes to the sun, “maybe I shouldn’t be eating the fish.” The brindle dog panted, tilting his head as he looked at Chance with his brown eyes, “You think Faith knows if her drugs have lasting consequences on the aquatic environment or you think that’s something that I’ll have to look into later?” The dog barked once before letting out a whine, “Yeah I think you’re right. I’m gonna have to look into it myself.”

Chance sat himself up, leaning on his elbows watching as the river sparkled and danced making its way down from the mountains. Boomer took to lying down next to him, joining in listening to the birds that sang and humming of the various bugs in the summer air. This is what his summer should have been looking like, quiet, peaceful, and free of any worry of the next minute being your last. Chance let out a sigh, standing fully, “Come on buddy,” he said to his friend, “Let’s get this stuff back home.” 

He started to bring the straps to his shoulders when he heard the sound of gunshots in the distance. Chance didn’t give himself much time to think as he reacted, dropping the bag in the shade of a small grove of bushes and trees, running to get to the main road, Boomer on his heels. Chance pulled out his handgun from it’s holster as he neared, spotting the two members of Eden’s Gate on the road, while two local residents stood huddled near the building, trying and failing to land a shot on their attackers. 

“You get away from that building! Ain’t nothing there that belongs to you!” The woman in the beige shirt of Eden’s Gate shouted, taking another shot. 

“Not what I heard,” a blonde man retorted, “Heard this place was once for everyone!”

“Well not anymore,” the male cultist responded reloading his AK, “Not since you took out its owner.”

Chance looked between them, brow knitting together trying to piece the information together. More shots were fired and Chance took aim at the peggies legs, hitting the male in the knees. He screamed in pain as he landed on the ground. The woman he was with rushed to help him, her bullets flying in his direction. Chance was making his way to get better shots at the two of them, hoping to disarm them, when the woman fell to the ground without a sound. Chance’s mouth fell open looking at the two locals at the building as they high fived, he could see they were both blonde haired young men, the shorter of the two taking aim at the male, taking him out just as quickly. “What the hell did you do that for?!”

They looked up to Chance, whispering among themselves before the taller one spoke up, “What do you mean they were going to kill us? We were defending ourselves.”

“They were going to leave,” Chance pointed to the ATV the woman was dragging her companion too, “She was taking him to get medical attention, they weren’t going to bother you anymore.”

“Only good peggie is a dead one,” the shorter one scoffed, “They would have come back or killed more good people. We were performing our duty is what we were doing.”

Chance shook his head, neck burning, clenching his jaw, “Just get your stuff and get the fuck out of here.” The two men looked at each other giving a quick shrug before running off with their bags. Chance watched as they got back in their car, driving out of sight, his eyes traveling to the bodies. He dragged them both to the shade of the building away from the road, someone would come looking for them and it was better they found them whole rather than roadkill. Chance took the building in again, small, windows broken, bullet holes littering the exterior, a fading sign marking it as Eden’s Gate Outreach Center. Chance let out a huffed laugh taking in the billboards, “Can’t believe they had a recruitment center,” he made his way closer to the broken door, Boomer at his side, “Took a note from Scientology I see.”

The glass crunched beneath his boots as he stepped into the building, the interior ransacked. The shelves disorganized, littered with bits of supplies, fridges shut off their glass broken still, a counter with a raised floor behind it, a single register broken open left bare, and above it a picture of the Father. It looked more like a gas station than some place meant to recruit new members, the farther in Chance saw how the back of the building was carpeted a circle made of chairs, some turned over, in the center of it and a single small table against the farthest wall. If the few AA meetings Chance attended were any indication then this building was also utilized as something akin to a rec center. 

There were two other doors that didn’t lead back outside, Chance finding one to disappointingly be a walk-in fridge area, the other locked and reinforced. He kicked at the door seeing if it would yield to him, taking a chair and lodging it under the knob of the door. Chance readied to kick it as hard as he could, “What are you doing!” Chance paused recognizing the voice, Boomer letting out a low growl, “Chance what are you doing?”

He didn’t dare face her, it could have been a hallucination for all he knew, “I just want to see what’s behind this door.”

“Well if it’s locked it means it’s none of your business,” Faith huffed, walking closer to him, “So stop it.”

Chance watched as she dislodged the chair, “Real or not real?”

She narrowed her eyes, “Real.” Faith tied her hair up before putting the chair back in its place, her eyes looking over the building solemnly, “I heard that two members may have been hurt over here, so I came to check.” The anger returned as her teal eyes met Chances, “Only to find you trashing this place and the two members dead.” 

“I didn’t trash it,” Chance defended, pointing at the door for Boomer to sit at for the time being, “I found it like this. I just wanted to see what two locals were willing to die over.”

Her hand ran lightly over the counter, eyes casted downward, “They never had any respect for this place, even when she showed nothing but kindness to them.” 

Chance studied her face, watching as it grew sad, memories playing out in the back of her mind, “Who do you mean?”

“My sister,” she said softly, walking behind the counter, “This was her mission,” her hands reached for something Chance couldn’t see.

“Dutch never said anything about there being another sister,” Chance said, leaning against the counter, “Thought it was just the three biological brothers and then you.”

Faith shook her head, “She was like me. Brought into the family,” her fingers lightly ran over a blue jeweled bracelet, “She’s gone now though,” her eyes met his with defiance once more.

“The members,” Chance nodded in the direction of where they laid, “they said the locals killed her,” Faith looked to the counter, pushing some hair back behind her ear, “Is that true? Is that what happened?”

She nodded, “Yeah. They killed her,” Faith’s jaw clenched, “Mary was kind and just wanted to help them, she never even tried to get people to join. She let it be their choice, some did of their own free will, but she never pushed. Then she let the teenagers help out in the center if they wanted too, give them something to do to reduce their need to pick up arms and fight alongside their parents. She was good and kind,” she paused, eyes running over the bracelet once more before slipping it onto her wrist, “and they killed her for it.”

Chance reached a hand out towards her, “I’m sorry for your loss, Faith.”

“What would you care for,” she pulled her hand back roughly, “You and your friends would have just killed her still if she lived.”

He frowned, “Only if it came down to it, but that doesn’t mean I want too.” Chance sighed, “If she was kind enough to have this place for everyone then I never would have killed her….just like you.” 

“You’d have me arrested instead,” Faith asked, giving a slight tilt to her head, “Even if they asked you to kill me?”

Chance swallowed, running a hand through his wet hair, “I mean yeah. That was the goal originally,” he shook his shoulders out giving a shrug, “Besides I can’t help but feel there’s something a little different with you.”

“Different how?” She smiled leaning closer to him, “Is it because you’re attracted to me?”

Chance scoffed, “No it’s not just that.”

“So you admit that you find me attractive,” she giggled.

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” Chance warned, “I mean that you’re not like your brothers. There’s something more to you that they don’t have.”

She pulled her hair out, giving it a flip, “And just _what,_ pray tell, would that be?”

Chance studied her face, locking onto her eyes, how easy it was for him to get lost in them, “You know I’m not really sure, actually.”

She laughed, her pink lips staying in a smile, “You know, you’re lucky you’re so pretty,” Chance rolled his eyes as she knocked against his head, “because sometimes it seems like you don’t have much going on in that head of yours.”

“Would you believe I was granted a full ride to a university in Colorado?” He asked, grabbing hold of her hand.

She placed her chin in her free hand, eyebrows raised slightly, “Then how did you end up here as a deputy?”

Chance looked away from her briefly,  _ I became a failure _ , “Life happened. Couldn’t leave the people I loved most behind.”

“You ever thought of going back one day, Chance?”

“I guess if it’s in the cards sure,” he let out a slow breath, “But first I have to live through this holy war.”

Faith gave a small nod, rubbing a small circle on the top of his hand, “Speaking of which,” she pulled back from him, “You want to help me board this place up?”

“You want to board it up,” he looked around the center, “Why?”

“Protect it,” Faith made her way to the back of the building, “It’s the last thing I have of her and I won’t allow any more harm to come to it.”

Chance followed, picking up one of the plywood boards, “This place was really special to her wasn’t it?” Faith didn’t say anything, simply pointing to the back window, Chance holding up the board as she nailed it in place. The two worked in silence as each window and door was covered, leaving just the back door open and exposed. “What about this one? Are you wanting to come back in here anytime soon?”

She looked at the door, holding her chin in thought, “I might,” she closed the door testing how it would hold up while locked, “It should be fine just locked, if not I’ll deal with it then.” Chance nodded, calling Boomer over as the three of them made their way out of the building. Faith closed the door, checking the lock once more, “What were you doing out here anyway?”

“Oh,” Chance pointed towards the river, “Collecting some supplies. I heard the gunshots and left them behind.” Faith smirked, raising a brow, “Hey I got them from the bridge, not the center I can promise you that.”

She rolled her eyes, smiling, “You need help with bringing it to the road?”

“What makes you think I need to bring it to the road?”

Faith pointed to his clothes, “Cause you jumped from that stash to the water and you’re not one to have a vehicle nearby most of the time, hence all the death defying stunts.”

Chance laughed, giving a shrug, “Guess you got me there,” he stuffed his hands in his pockets, “You can come if you want. Wouldn’t mind the extra company.”

“And you know I can never turn yours down, Chance,” Faith followed, humming, her eyes never leaving Chance’s movements. She admired the way the sun brought about the red and bronze in his hair, just the same as they were kids. He held out his tattooed hand to her as they came to the rocky drop, lifting her by the waist when the rocks appeared too sharp for Faith to step on safely. 

Chance paused, hands still wrapped around her, catching the glimmer of her eyes in the afternoon sun. The way her hair flashed a blonde as it blew in the gentle wind, his thumbs running along the ribbon of her dress, how easy it would be to just lean down and-.

Chance released her, shaking his head, “It’s not very far from here if I remember correctly,” he muttered, her hand finding his as he led her the rest of the way.  _ People call her the Siren for a reason, Chance, she’s just wanting to play with you, _ his thoughts conflicting with the growing feelings in his chest. Chance had chalked it up to just pure lust, but the more they encountered each other….the more he couldn’t help but find a sense of familiarity with her. Their talks easy and light, while the deeper talks as the sun set showed how alike they were. From the addiction, to the feeling of loneliness, never feeling like you fit in fully to one place. She understood the loss and lack of purpose he felt near constantly and never judged him when he gave the truth rather than the lies he’d recite to everyone else. 

Each talk, each moment with her and she felt less and less like the person they all painted her to be. She was more than just Faith….she was someone Chance felt he knew to be more than that, if only people would just stop and listen. Joseph listened, heard the pleas she had been shouting, and he did so with little judgement, along with having answers to her problems, gave her safety from those that abused her. Chance couldn’t deny that if put in her position he wouldn’t have done what she had just for a chance to feel better, to feel like you were being heard. The victim turned victimizer….but not beyond a chance to turn things around for the better. At least to Chance. 

He just couldn’t bring himself to act on his feelings, not just yet. If everything she had told him was true, then she needed things to be taken at her pace, not the one of a lonely guy that was used to keeping everyone at a distance. 

“Is that it there,” Faith’s voice brought him back from his thoughts, his eyes looking between where she was and where she was pointing, “That’s gotta be the bag right?”

He squinted, walking closer, “Oh yeah it is,” Chance gave her a smile, “Thanks.”

“So,” she started slowly, “do you want some help,” she stepped closer to him, his heart rate picking up speed with each step, “Cause it wouldn’t be that big of a deal for me.”

Chance swallowed stepping back closer to the rock face, “I think I got it handled. Maybe just need some help to uh find a car or something.” Faith pressed herself against him, her smile never leaving, “Maybe the ATV up there would be good,” Chance pointed back to the road, Faith grabbing a hold of his hand gently, bringing it back down to her waist.

“You know what I can’t figure out, Chance,” she said her voice lowered, “Why you always look like you want to kiss me,” she ran a hand up his torso slowly, the other running down his jawline, “but you never do.” She tilted her head, “Are you scared of me?”

Chance gripped the rock wall with his free hand, focusing on the texture avoiding the feeling of what it would be like to run his hand under her dress. The smoothness of her skin beneath his calloused fingertips, his lips pressed against hers so fervently that there’s little time for them to breathe, to savor what’s finally happening between them. He wanted that.

She asked if he was scared of her. In truth it was the images plaguing his mind for weeks now were what scared him. He wanted her, be close to her, so much that giving in meant that he didn’t want her to just be another notch on his bedpost. Chance wasn’t scared of Faith….he was scared of falling for her.

_ “Are you scared of me?” _ , “No. I’m not scared.” Faith smiled, her hands gripping his shirt pulling his lips to hers. Chance’s eyes widened a moment, the blood running to his cheeks in an instant, free hand releasing the rock wall behind him unsure of wanting to push her away or not. Her hands splayed out on his chest, pushing him flush against the wall, her lips teasing to part his. The moment of shock left as quickly as it came and he closed his eyes, his free hand holding the back of her neck the other running down to her hip and back up to her waist. Chance became dizzy as she took control, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, the only thing he was able to feel was the way she felt against him, how soft her lips felt, how this shouldn’t be happening. 

Chance’s eyes flew open, pushing her away from, his fingertips holding her back. He gulped in the air, her expression unreadable with her lips parted and heavy breathing, hands still on his arms. He just needed a moment. Of all the ways he could have pictured this happening, underneath a bridge that became known as “The Bridge of Tears” was not one of them. She deserved better. “We should,” he whispered, “should find a car….,” his words trailed off. Admittedly he’d never make it that far, any sort of bravery she coaxed out of him would be long gone by the time they got to their destination. “Fuck it,” he whispered on his breath, bringing her lips back to his.

Chance wrapped an arm around her, his other hand tangling itself in her hair as he moved to push her against the rock wall. She let out a small gasp, Chance hiking one of her legs around his hips, hand running along the smoothness of her thigh, Faith giving a small bite on his lower lip, pressing herself closer to him. Chance grinded his hips against her, mouth moving to kiss along her jawline and down her neck, her arms encircling him, fingers interlocking with his curls, small moans escaping her. 

The collar of her dress running too high for either one’s liking, Chance growled in frustration, pulling her away, Faith locking her legs around him as he deftly unzipped the dress, bringing them both to a soft and grassy spot, shaded by the bridge. He laid them both down gently, pulling the top half of her dress down, lips returning to their spot at the crook of her neck biting lightly. Faith’s hands ran down his body to the edge of his shirt, pulling it up and off of him, Chance tossing it to the side. Her nails lightly grazed his back as he kissed along her collarbone, hands yanking down the rest of the white lace allowing him full access to her body. 

Once free of it pulled back, taking her in, fingers tracing the curve of her body. Her skin had become sunkissed in the warmer months, smooth, near pristine save for the ENVY along her left ribs. He traced the letters the Y leading his hands down to her hips, Faith inhaling with her hips rolling to meet his touch. He’d imagine her like this and it still paled in comparison to the woman before him. Hearing her breath, her warmth, watching the way her body moved below with every touch.  _ Perfection, _ all of her.

Faith had started to feel impatient, but could stop herself from taking in the boy turned man. The same one she’d adored in her youth was now grown and hers alone. The small cuts of his muscle growing with each day he spent out here, the tremble he gave as she traced them. His skin wasn’t as smooth as she once thought it would be, scars and cuts in various stages of healing, some she could place others a mystery still. This is who she wanted, who she had  _ always  _ wanted….and she wasn’t going to let anyone else take him from her.

Chance brought himself down to meet her lips, her mouth opening to meet his, drinking in the sensation of the moment of intimacy. Chance’s hands made work of exploring her, one finding its place on her breast, the other between her legs. His lips made their way down her neck to kiss around her nipple, his finger starting to rub slow circles around her clit. Faith moaned, Chance taking her breast in her mouth, the other massaged with his hand. Her hands held onto him, moans increasing in volume as he ran his tongue over her nipple and the speed of his circular motions increased. 

He wanted to take his time, do this properly, worship her, but his body….he’d wanted this for so long that he didn’t want to. There would be other times like this one, times he could give her the full attention she deserved. Chance moved to her other breast as he stuck a finger into her, feeling how wet she’d gotten, pumping it in and out of her. Faith moaned his name asking for more, Chance responding inserting another finger, his thumb taking care of her bud. “No,” she breathed out, “I want you.” 

Chance pulled away from her chest, his hand not stopping, gasping as he felt her hands undo his pants, stroking his straining length. “Are-,” he moaned as Faith started to pump him, “Are you sure you want this?”

She smiled letting out a groan, toes starting to curl, “Yes.” She whined feeling Chance’s hand leave from between her thighs, quickly helping in the removal of his pants. Chance lined himself up arms holding himself over her, watching for the nod from Faith to continue. He inserted himself slowly, letting her adjust to him being inside of her, moans trapped in the back of his throat, reveling in the long one she was giving him as he felt himself fill her to his hilt. He bit his lower lip enjoying the feeling of finally being with her like this. 

He took a deep breath beginning to pull out of her, pushing back in before his tip left her. The movements were slow to start finding their rhythm before Faith wrapped her legs around him making him move faster. Chance responded in kind, smashing his lips against hers, moaning into her mouth with each thrust. Her fingers gripped his hair, pulling his mouth back from him as her volume increased, feeling her muscles tighten around him.

Chance threw one of her legs over his shoulder, moaning feeling himself deeper in her, smiling hearing the change in pitch from Faith. She pulled him closer, her screams filling his ears, nails digging into his back. He could feel himself get close with each thrust holding himself back by the single thought that she had to be first. It didn’t take much longer for Faith to tighten around him, nails drawing some blood, screaming out his name as the tension from her body released. Chance thrusted a few times helping her ride out the orgasm letting his own release happen with a moan and final deep thrust. 

Chance’s vision blurred a moment, before settling onto Faith’s eyes, their breathing rapid. He smiled down at her as she gave one back to him. Chance leaned down to kiss her gently, resting his head on her chest. His fingers traced patterns along her skin, hers running through his hair, the two stayed silent while they caught their breath. Faith was the first to break the silence, “What do you say we go back to your place?”

Chance chuckled propping himself on an elbow, “You’re ready for a round two already?” She smirked pointing to his rehardening length, “Guess I will be too.”

Faith kissed him, “So what do you say,” she whispered against his lips.

He smiled, pushing some of her hair back, “You better find a fast car then.”


End file.
